Lizard
by Gemmadog
Summary: Another Molly and CJ story. Always from me. For those of you wondering about the title...Lizard...An Army term for someone who screws up spectacularly...mmmm…. wonder who that could be. May be a one shot, may be more.
1. Chapter 1

**Lizard.**

"You think they could have at least told me Mum." Molly moaned hoisting herself up onto a clearer space on top of the kitchen units. "I mean I was married to the man." 

Belinda slapped her daughter's arm demanding her to stand up. Too proud of her new kitchen to let anyone spoil it. Never mind sit on the worktop! 

"Yeah. You were Mols. But then you weren't." She argued back. "You left him." 

Molly flashed a fiery glare at her mother. The truth hurt. 

"Still don't mean I stopped caring." She spat back and her eyes filled up with the tears she vowed she'd never shed again for her ex-husband. The man who had systematically changed the direction of her life and her opinion of it. 

"I know that love." Her mother moved in to hug her daughter. 

Her daughter, Molly, who had shown them all. Who had succeeded where no one else had imagined she would. Her daughter who she hardly ever saw these days as she lived too far away. Her daughter who, once again was falling apart all because of that man and his actions. 

"I still love him Mum. You know... despite... just cause he did what he did." Molly hiccupped. "Still doesn't mean I stopped loving him." 

"Course you do Molly." She said. "Everyone knows that." 

"Yeah well." The angry Molly was back. "He quickly bloody forgot." And then the sadness washed over her again. "And now it's too late." She wailed. 

Belinda moved Molly into the child and Dave free sitting room of their flat. Big changes had happened to them all over the past six years or so. Most of the kids had moved out. Now just her and Dave, and Martin. Their time together happier and less tempestuous, especially as Dave was now working. Yet she'd always have time for her kids. 

She held her daughter in her arms, rocking her as her loss hit her again and again.

Molly sobbed long and hard. Although they hadn't seen each other for months Belinda knew that this was a regular occurrence. That Molly was still consumed by the ending of her marriage, by his betrayal, by the termination of her happy ever after. 

Her life once had been mapped out. A burgeoning military career, a decorated one at that. A well thought of Army Medic. Molly had loved it all, especially him and his place in her life. It all had seemed so perfect. She was married to her best mate, he was a true supporter in everything she did, and they, as parents, could do nothing but approve her choice of husband. The dashing and very loveable Captain James. Charles to them who knew and loved him, and as a family they did love him. Almost as much as Molly had done. 

Then the unthinkable happened. Something no one ever suspected. He betrayed her, and Molly got out of the marriage as fast as she could. Feeling foolish, everything she fought for over the years, her self-respect... shattered by that one man. 

Her crying continued and Belinda couldn't say anything that would take away her pain. They had been there too many times. Too much hurt. All she could do for now was to wait until Molly was ready to start again. Ready to face this new wave of pain and hurt full on. Ready to absorb and digest the news about her ex-husband that had broken her heart all over again. 

The clock ticked, the muted sounds of traffic and neighbour's television set were Belinda's only company as Molly broke her heart in her mother's embrace. Eventually though the time came. Red, puffy eyed Molly was now calm, but still needed to be held by her Mum. The time for talking it all out had arrived. 

"Who told you love?" Her Mum asked. 

"Bels." She huffed out. "Called me just as I was about to get the plane." 

"Rubbish timing that daughter of mine." She sighed out. 

"Weren't her fault mum." Molly defended her sister. "She thought I'd want to know as soon as." 

"Yeah?" Belinda went and poured them each a brandy. "So what did she say?" 

"Not much." Molly swigged the harsh drink; not sure it would make her feel any better. "Just the basics. Said she tell me more when she got here." 

Belinda looked at the clock.

"Won't be long, and hour or so." She hugged her daughter tightly. "Whatever Mols it's bloody good to see you." 

Molly smiled. It was nice to be home.

She was sad on so many levels, yet feeling safer than she had felt for a long time. Sad her home coming, her long period of leave was already ruined by the giant elephant in the room of her past. 

She waited to hear more. Waited for her sister. Quietly curled up on the couch with her Mum. Warm, tired. The 24 hours plus of travelling threatening to catch up on her.

Her thoughts were all over. Fixing mainly though, on her sad past. She reckoned she had found out about Charles' betrayal about an hour or so after it happened. Despite the fact they were in different countries, different time zones. The Army's gossip machine, and the need to gloat by some, causing the jungle drums to beat faster and louder than usual. What had started off as a normal day soon turned into one of her worst days ever, and soon was to be remembered as one of her last days in the Army. Shock, grief, the need to hide, all caused a long period of absence. Which eventually accumulated in a self-discharge. Her goodbye to the Army, her career and to the man she loved. 

It only took her several weeks of lying on her parent's settee, wallowing in self-pity, to realise that it wasn't an option. Molly James, now soon to be Dawes, needed to move on. Plus she knew that this would be one of the first places he would call at on his return. In his search to find her, and she didn't want that. She need to disappear. 

So this brave, tenacious lady did just that. She moved on, and she moved away. Landing, thankfully spectacularly on her feet. A long term contract working out in New Zealand at a holiday activity centre. They had snapped her up quickly. Her skills as an ex-Army medic, young, fit, no ties, all perfect attributes for the outbound activities and the services they offered to their paying guests. Skiing in the winter, she learnt that skill very quickly, and water sports in the summer. Finally forcing her to learn to swim. 

Her life was good, but would have been so much better if she still had Charles in it. Although she loved it, in a heartbeat she would have taken her old life back. Taken back the old Charles who used to love her so much. Yet she realised that could never be, so she made the most of it, as she always did. She missed her family dreadfully though, the hardest part about this adventure. Only seeing them once a year in the flesh, when she had her between season long break. None of the family or the few friends she had back in the UK having the funds to visit. Yet she knew it wasn't forever, she knew she could return home if she had wanted to, and she knew it was the best she could have hoped for after her dreams had been ruined. 

"So how did Bels find out?" Her mother asked. 

"Heard off a friend and that I guess." Molly shrugged. "Would have thought at least one of them bastards would have told me though." 

"I know Mols." 

"I was their friend too before her... before she came along." She complained. 

"So was Bels." Belinda sighed. "Another daughter hurt by an Army fella." 

Molly grimly looked at her mother. 

"Shit. Yeah. Sorry." Molly sneered. "Another Dawes to have her heart crushed by a Lane as well." 

It wasn't what they had wanted not in a million years, but her and Charles knew it had been inevitable. It was pointless fighting the match. The amount of time they had spent together, the attraction for all to see was definitely there. Her baby sister, Bella, and Fingers, her mate, hit it off straight away. It quickly escalated. A full blown love affair. Her and Charles used to joke that even they weren't as smitten with each other as Bels and Fingers. It had continued for over a year and a half. Neither could get enough of each other. Both declaring they were totally loved up. Marriage was talked about; flat hunting was started. Two people so very serious about each other, and then Lane happened. Well not Lane exactly, but her sister Marie to be more precise. One weekend away for Bels and Fingers had fallen under her spell. Broke his promise to Bels and broke her heart. The last she had heard he was now married to Marie and the second kid was on its way. 

Unlike Molly, Bels couldn't say "stuff life" in quite the same way that Molly had. After Fingers she was awful. She had become miserable and low. Went from loser to loser relationship wise, and job wise too, if Molly was honest. Remained unhappy, and liked nothing more than to see others unhappy too. Hence why she had delighted when she had heard the news about Charles and passed it on to Molly as soon as possible. Happy to spread misery. 

Molly and Belinda sat sipping the brandy. 

"Did she say when it happened?" Molly's Mum asked. 

"Couple of months ago Mum." And Molly burst out crying... again. "I've really lost him, haven't I, and no one ever said." 

She blew her nose. 

"Bet no one even thought about me." She quietly whispered on. 

The front door banged open and shut and Bella, the harbinger of doom flew in. Excited. 

"So she's told you then." Bella looked from her Mum to Molly. "The bastard." 

"Bels!" Belinda shouted. 

"Well he is." Bella stood her ground. "They all are... were." 

"Please tell us Bels." Molly asked. "You never really said." 

Bella sat on a chair opposite her expectant audience. Delighted to be the number one in this scene. 

"Well I heard from an ex mate, who used to go out with the sister's step son of Finger's brethren's mate, that Charles had... you know." 

Neither Molly or Belinda spoke. They both just sighed, exasperated. Glaring at her to be clearer and to continue. 

Bella happily continued. 

"Apparently it happened the end of July." 

"That's over two months ago." Molly sobbed out as more tears flowed. "Why does it still hurt Mum?" She pleaded. 

Belinda gave a hard squeeze to her eldest's hand. Bella oblivious to Molly's pain went on. 

"It was all quite sudden. Apparently. It happened in Bath. No one expected it. Anyway the ceremony, went off with full military honours, bets bib and tucker type of thing." She eventually paused. "As though the bastard deserved that." 

"Bels. I won't tell you again." Belinda should. "Can't you see Molly's upset." 

"Why?" Bella asked. Amazed. 

"Cause I bloody love him. Loved him." She shouted as she jumped up. "Cause he was my husband and I loved him...and now... and now... shitting hell...and now he's dead." 

She stared out the window. A view she'd known for years, a view from her old family home. Somewhere she'd always felt safe, she'd felt right in, and now everything in her life, in her world, was wrong. 

Her love. Her husband of four years. The man she had given more to than she had given to anyone. Her Captain James was dead. 

No one had told her. No one had thought enough of her, of what they had been, to let her know. She wasn't on anyone's radar any more. She was just the ex-wife. The one who'd left him, even though she had her reasons, the one that walked away and the one who never got to see him again. 

He had tried in fairness. He had really tired. He had texted, called her numerous times, hounded her parents, but she never replied. She never let him explain. The time for talking had long passed. When she had wanted to talk he had shut her out, once she found out about his betrayal she chose then to do the very same to him. The divorce was quick and uncomplicated. His need to move on with his life, to find out whatever he had with Lane obviously the driving force, and one day she discovered he just stopped trying. Nearly a year ago and she'd heard nothing from him. A small part of her had hoped he would keep on trying…..forever. Keep on trying until she had healed enough to listen to him. To maybe even for them to try again, but she knew that was just a dream. He'd chosen his life with Georgie, his lack of sustained effort, proved that. However, no matter what, she had loved him, always had, and despite his sins, always would... but now it was too late. Her Charles was dead.

He'd died suddenly at home. The reports told to them by Bella said. She wondered at his return to Bath. If that was where he had lived with Georgie. She wondered too if he had died in Lane's arms. She even wondered if Lane had tried to save him, or was it that even her, with her reputed amazing super powers of healing, that even she couldn't save him this time. She wondered if he thought of her, if she had been the last thing that he saw. Just like once he said he hoped she would be. 

"Apparently there's a big memorial thing happening next week." Bella had continued talking, but Molly had until now zoned out. "And not only that... get this he was a Major too. He went up in the world after you Mols." 

Molly smiled sadly, not biting at her sister's ill meant remark.

"His dad will be proud. At one time that's all he ever wanted... to make his Dad proud." She said quietly. "God. I wonder how his poor parents are?" 

"Well you'll get to see them won't ya?" Bels asked. "I'll come with you." 

"What do you mean?" Belinda questioned her. 

"Well now Mols is home on her long leave... she can go to the memorial thing... can't she?" 

"No bloody way." Shouted Molly. "No way. If they couldn't even remember to tell me he was dead, than I'm fucked if I'm gonna give them the satisfaction of turning up at his memorial." 

Her Mum moved over and pulled her in for a hug. 

"Just think about it. Eh Mols?" With that she kissed into her hair and her daughter once again cried. 

That's all Molly had done... think about it. She thought mainly about their time together. How much love they had shared. How they had been everything to each other... right until that day Elvis had died, and then it all changed. Charles had become an almost different person. Someone who shut her out, rather than let her in as he always had done. He became someone that forced her to be the 'bad' one in their marriage. Turned everything around as though it was her fault. Made her feel insecure and paranoid.

Yet she wasn't. She knew he was no longer coping, he needed help and she also knew he was no longer able to say his whole heart belonged to her anymore. Now where there always had been only Molly, there was now a defiant Georgie size piece firmly entrenched with every beat of his guilt ridden heart. She saw it grow day by day. 

She had always intended to fight her, Lane, for him. Fight to have her Charles back. She tried to be exceptionally patient and understanding that this was not him. He was suffering and misguided and she needed to help him. Yet he started to wear her down, he started to make her feel that no matter what, no matter how he recovered, either physically or mentally, she still wouldn't be who he wanted.

She still had some fight in her though. Some fight for her marriage, right up until the very moment she heard he'd slept with Lane. That very moment that he had chosen not to fight for them anymore, she too stopped fighting. That he had instead chosen a wrong and very much easier way out of his mental tournament and troubles. Then she left, physically checked out, but on hearing of his demise knew, as she always had known, emotionally she had never left him. He still had her heart.

She walked bravely in with her Mum beside her. Bella, asked nicely by them both, not to come. Bella's attendance would not have been for Charles. It would not have been to honour his memory, but instead it would have been to gloat and to cause as much upset as possible. That's not what Molly had wanted. Not today. The fight in her had gone. She was here to say simply goodbye to Charles.

As soon as they entered the hall Molly knew her decision was right. The first person they met was Fingers. His greeting was sheepish, as it should be, as he has wronged both Dawes ladies. Bella when he cheated on her and Molly when he chose Lane's side over hers. She understood why, but still it hurt. She, back then had chosen sides too. She had chosen her side, and as well as cutting herself off from Charles she had cut herself off from all of two section and anyone connected with them.

Molly saw a lot of faces she recognised and a lot more she didn't. She spoke to no one more. Surprised by the average age of the attendees. Older than she had imagined, more senior. She guessed a testament to how well respected he was. She looked around as they seated themselves quietly at the back of the hall, declining an order of service offered to her by a young man. Their seating was the furthest away they could be from where she expected his family to sit. From where Lane the grieving widow/ partner would be. Away from the woman who took her Charles away, the woman who now would have a hall full of sympathetic eyes upon her. 

Despite her sadness Molly resented this. Knowing that no one would look at her with such feelings. No one would gently touch her hand to tell her what a wonderful person he was, how much he'd be missed, how sorry they were. No one would look at her and see the pain she was going through in losing her true love. 

She tried to be brave. Tried to stop the tears but they fell anyway. Thickly and silently, ruining the small amount of make up she'd chosen to wear that day.

She had taken care in her appearance. Wanting him, wherever he was, on some level to be impressed as to how she had turned herself out for him. Her body toned and tanned from all the outside activities she been involved with. Her dress sense, smart and sophisticated as it had developed under his tutorage. He would have approved, and the Charles she remembered of old would have struggled not to grab her, like he used to do in the early days, and kiss her hard and possessively.

Now she didn't need to dress for any man. No one would enter her heart again in such away. Charles had made her and moulded her in to the perfect fit for him, and only him, and she had willingly complied.

She still was independent. Still her own person, still able to make her own choices. Still fierce. It just so happened that everything she had ever wanted, ever wanted to become, had involved him, and them. They had shared the same dreams and goals. 

Looking back over their years together she could see that she had changed him too. His mother, who she had been very close to, used to marvel how much happier he was with Molly than ever before. How he now considered things, places, people, rather than just accepting them. How he become more in touch emotionally, which opened up so many more layers to his wonderful personality. But, Molly sadly thought, it also was his downfall, their downfall. His ability to think, be more empathetic, led him to be eaten up with guilt and a mis-placed sense of loyalty to Georgie. Ironically it was her changing him that pushed him away from Molly and into Georgie's arms. 

Her musing had distracted her and suddenly the service began. The hall had filled up, and being small and tucked away in the corner by the wall, she had failed to see everyone enter. Yet she knew that they must have as you don't start an 'ego service' without the 'ego's' family being there. 

Everyone stood. Molly blindly did the same. A hymn was sung. Loudly and with power. It had been one of Charles' fathers' favourites, and as a family it was always being sung around their home, and so despite having no order of service in front of her she knew enough of the words to join in. She smiled, pleased as Charles had always stated that was a hymn he had wanted sung at his funeral, and she hoped it had been, as well as being sung today. He said it reminded him of home, of England and of everything he been fighting for. Of his duty and of his family. 

Just at the right time the singing stopped and the crowd sat. Molly too slow was out stripped by the rest of the congregation and moments later took to her seat. 

It was only moments but long enough for her to see the front row. To see the chief mourners. The main players. She didn't catch sight of Georgie, but she saw his mother's back, and recognised her instantly. Stoically holding herself together. More than Molly was. Her heart bleed for the mother who was mourning the loss of her son, so very young in comparison. She failed though to see Charles' dad. Knowing he'd been plagued with ill health for years, suspecting he was too unwell to attend, or too proud to attend. She knew the military gene Charles had inherited had come from his father, and grandfather, and guessed Charles' dad would be too frightened to show a flaw in that stiff upper British lip he'd cultivated during his military history. 

As she sat something hit her. The strong broad shoulders of the man who had held on to Charles' mother hand. The dark blue civilian suit hugging a toned body that too was taut with grief and reserve. The man's head bent, downcast. So familiar, it stirred memories. 

She pushed those memories aside. Yes today was all about remembering but not imagining. Yet she did. What would she say if she had seen him one more time? What would she have done if she has listened to his apology and he had begged for her forgiveness? Would she have taken it? 

It was all academic now. He was gone, but oh how she wished if she did have the chance, one more chance to talk to him she would. She'd listen, she'd learn. She might even have forgiven him. Yet one thing she was certain she would do... she'd fall into his arms and tell him it didn't matter anymore. That a life without him was nothing. That a life with him, a second chance would be everything. 

The service went by fast. She heard little. Heard snippets of his life, his career and struggled to associate what she heard with the man she had been married too. Brief snatches of stories that didn't seem to relate to her Charles. She threw off her concerns, after all he had lived a life without her. With someone else. She had no right to know everything about him now. 

Her mother nudged her harshly to bring her out of her day dreams. 

"Mols. Look at this." She hissed as she past the literature she was holding in her hands to Molly. "Bleeding Bella and her tales." Was all she cryptically said. 

Two things happened at once.

The service paused as the next speaker walked to the front of the hall. The front bench shifted as a family member went to deliver the eulogy.

The second thing was that Molly looked at the information she held in her hand. Not computing the words. Misunderstanding what her mother was frantically hissing in her ear. 

Then it all made sense.

As if in a dream she looked up almost at the same instance he reached the lectern. There was no way he could see her. She was too tiny, but even so she slid down a bit more as the realisation dawned on her. 

She listened to his strong voice. Glaring at her mother to quieten her. Belinda almost amazed as she was, held her tongue. 

The strong figure in the blue suit started. Loud, clear speech. 

"I'd like to thank you all for coming. On behalf of my mother, the family... coming today to honour a great man." 

Molly swallowed hard as she listened on. The tears still fell, but she knew not exactly why any more. 

"A great man. Major Charles Benjamin Harold James. Retired. Some of you knew him, like we all did as Benny or even Grandpops. Some of you knew him as Sir... Me? I knew him as Dad, and couldn't have been prouder to do so." 

Molly listened as she heard Charles' voice break with emotion. As he stood up in front of the crowd talking about the man he loved and admired... his father. The man they were here to honour. Major Charles Benjamin Harold James, the man her husband had been named after. 

Her world spun.

No matter what everything in the world suddenly made sense. Charles, her Charles was alive. Sad and mourning the death of his father, but alive. 

Unashamedly she smiled, beamed even, and let out a small but inappropriate giggle. It was enough though to catch someone's attention. Someone who knew and loved that sound, and thought they would never hear it again.

Just at that moment Charles raised his head. And for the first time in over two years, his eyes locked onto the sight of his Molly, his beautiful Molly. The woman he still loved and regretted letting go every day since... smiling right back at him. 

For that moment in time, as Elvis has once said... all was well with the world. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok Ok…as you can see I am rubbish at one shots (so are most of my esteemed OGFF writers too though to be fair)…..and now here the story continues….enjoy x**

Lizard

Chapter 2

"Can we slow down?" She shouted out. "Please!" 

"No." Molly screamed back. 

"Shouldn't we at least stop and say hello?" She tried again. 

"No fucking way." Molly turned on her mother and her ridiculous comment. "Let's just go." 

"What not even offer our sympathies and that to his mum? We've come all this way Mols." Belinda was frantically trying to keep up with her daughter, who was going faster than she ever knew anyone could achieve whilst still walking in heels. "They used to be family!" 

"I need to get out of here Mum." She said as she rummaged through the contents of her bag, ignoring her Mum's last words. "I knew coming here was a mistake." Finally pulling the car door open and getting in. 

Belinda had held her tongue for as long as she possibly could. The car journey home, she knew would take them several hours and the tension was awful. She needed to talk. They both needed to talk. 

She'd never been one to hold her tongue. She was famous for that fault, that was her problem now, and one she had very much passed on to Molly. So Belinda did what she did and started to talk. She started off though simple and gentle. Mindful of her eldest child's feelings. 

"Molly...love?" 

She reached out and touched her daughter's hand, the free one, not the one that had fiercely gripped the steering wheel since the journey had begun, in an attempt to get her to open up. Silence remained however. Belinda just knew she wasn't winning this one. It was no good, experience showed her that Molly wasn't for talking, her famous stubborn streak had settled in. Which was fine, that was their Molly, quiet and moody at times, but what worried Belinda more she wasn't even crying either. She was just focused on driving and no more. Devoid of any external emotion, save for the death grip she had on the steering wheel, and that wasn't their Molly. So Belinda watched and she knew. She knew her girl, her Molly, inside was slowly dying all over again. 

"Where is she?" Molly yelled as soon as she got through the front door of her family home. The first words spoken for hours. "Where's the stupid cow?" She demanded of anyone. 

Dave poked his head out from the sitting room. There had been lots of shouting in their home over the years, but after a period of calm, compatibility, Molly's outburst, the noise, genuinely surprised him. 

"Bloody hell Mols. What's up with you." He asked scanning around to his wife for hope of an explanation. Who was decidedly staying out of the path of fury Molly was creating as she looked through the rooms downstairs. 

"My stupid sister. That's what's up." Molly yelled as she bounded upstairs in her continued hunt for blood. "I'm gonna bloody kill her." 

Dave stared at Belinda. 

"Well?" Was all he asked. Fearful of the answer. 

"Bels got it wrong." Was all she offered. 

"Got what wrong?" He asked of his wife, totally confused. 

Belinda pushed past him into the kitchen, struggling herself with the potential fallout from the misunderstanding. Wanting the awful day to end. 

"About Charles and that." She sighed before filling the kettle. "He ain't dead. He didn't die. It was his Dad's thing we went to. Benny's memorial." 

"Oh." Was all Dave could say. "Shit." It finally hit him. "Does that mean?" He gulped out. 

"Yes of course it bloody means that." Belinda snapped back. "Yes of course Charles was there, and yes, your daughter saw him." She looked at her husband, uselessly taking in what she had just told him. "Look just push off to the pub will ya Dave? It's been a long day and I'm wiped out." 

Dave didn't need telling twice, but still managed to pull a face as though it was a huge inconvenience for him and he was doing it as a favour to her. Yet he knew a Dawes' cat fight was something he never wished to be part of if he could help it, and one was brewing. 

Belinda sat down wearily. It wasn't only Molly who was reeling from today's events. She was too. That moment she held the order of service, that moment she saw the photo of the man they were there to honour. That very moment she saw her ex son in law stand before her, were all moments she couldn't, wouldn't forget. Though she really wanted to. She knew the fallout from today would be huge. 

Belinda had loved Charles. Always had seen him as the perfect man for her tenacious daughter, someone Molly deserved. Her daughter's love for him was contagious and Charles soon had a place in all their hearts. When they divorced, when she had learnt of his infidelity, it wasn't only Molly who he hurt. Yet despite it all, despite being firmly on Molly's side she still cared for him, and the news of his 'death' affected her too. She'd silently cried tears, alone, over her prized son in law's demise. Keeping her grief secret as she felt not to would have been a betrayal to Molly. So when today, when she had finally understood and become reconciled with Bel's mistake, she once again felt the pain and loss of Charles James in their lives.

She knew though she couldn't be selfish. Her priority was Molly. Her mother's heart ached all over again for her Molly. Her mother's heart worried what this would mean for her girl. Belinda had watched as Molly had almost broke when they quickly divorced, but then was so proud of her as she saw her grow strong again. She knew Molly was strong, but after today she questioned how strong. She'd watched how Molly almost crumbled when she thought he was dead, her Charles. Yet, although it hurt, Belinda saw it as a blessing almost; Charles' death would have meant an end to it all.

Belinda knew, had faith, that in time Molly would once more grown strong after her loss, and then she'd be free, totally. But now, now he was alive, now Molly had seen him again, all be it briefly, and Belinda just didn't know. Molly was back to being in emotional limbo. Knowing he still existed on the same planet as her, despite thinking for the past week he'd died, that knowledge would mess up her mind and her delicate bruised heart all over again. 

Belinda rapped gently on her daughter's bedroom door. 

"Mols? Come on Mols. Time to get up." 

It was way past lunchtime the next day and Belinda was staging an intervention. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Molly since she had stormed through the house looking for Bella. Thankful for all she didn't find her. Her sister wisely staying away at her boyfriend's for the night. After Bella had heard the tirade of abuse Molly left on her voice mail, Belinda suspected it may be quite some time before Bella resurfaced again. Molly had since then just stayed in her room. 

"Come on love. I brought you a toastie and a cup of tea." She tempted her daughter through the firmly closed bedroom door. "You haven't eaten since yesterday." 

Slowly the door was opened by Molly and Belinda was shocked to see just how normal she looked. She'd expected her to be a mess, eyes puffy and swollen, dishevelled, but that wasn't so, apart from still being in her PJs Molly looked just fine. 

"Thanks Mum." She said and hungrily bit into the toastie. "Thanks." 

"You want to talk?" Belinda asked. "You know about yesterday and stuff?" 

Molly swallowed another large mouthful of the tea and Belinda waited. 

"Not much to say is there?" She replied. "Thought he was dead. He ain't." And with that she shrugged her shoulders. 

"Must have been a shock though?" Her mother carried on. 

"Yeah, and no. I mean yeah cause of bloody Bella I thought he was dead." She swigged her tea and thought a bit more. "But no... he mightn't be dead, but he's still the bastard who cheated on me... with her." 

Belinda nodded. Surprised at seeing daughter calm, reasoning. 

"So what you gonna do Mols?" She asked. 

"Me? First I'm gonna kill that stupid sister of mine. Then I'm gonna enjoy my leave." She smiled at her mum. "That's all I can do Mum." 

"Nothing else?" 

Molly looked at her mother. 

"No Mum nothing else." She firmly answered. 

"Yeah?" Belinda pushed. "It's just…. You know Mols. You thought he was dead and was heartbroken baby... I just thought... you know... now he ain't!" 

"What. Forgive him? See him?" Molly shrieked out.

Belinda recoiled a bit.

"Well it's a thought!" She offered bravely.

Molly rolled her eyes. Which now were slightly wetter than before.

"I don't know what to think Mum." Finally Molly's tears came. "I'm pleased he ain't dead, but I still don't know. I mean is he with her and that? When I though he was dead I thought for a moment if I were given another chance to see him again... well maybe I'd listen to him... even forgive him." 

Belinda didn't move too scared to break her daughter's out pouring. 

"Thing is Mum I thought I still wanted him, and now he's not dead... I just don't know." 

"I'm scared Mum." Were Molly's last words before her Mum rushed forward to her side, as her daughter once again sobbed in her arms over Charles bloody James. 

He'd been so happy for the briefest of moments when he'd first saw her. His Molly, staring and smiling right back at him. All his mistakes, seemed at that moment, behind him. So happy for a glorious moment, despite the circumstances. So happy, and then reality came crashing in and he remembered and he saw that she did too. 

It was his duty to his father. His love for his father that kept him going, though to be honest Charles knew not how. Drawing on a reserve, a moral code, that he thought he had long forgotten. The sternest, determination in completing the task something he hadn't used in many a year. Along with everything else be believed he'd lost that too. 

By the time he saw her, the service, thankfully, was coming to a close. Yet still when he had seen her and the few minutes left where he had to play his part were torture. All he wanted to do was to rush down the aisle to her, hold her, grab her. Never let her go, just like he should never have done so. Yet he couldn't; he had other duties, responsibilities to consider, and reluctantly he watched from a distant and had no choice but to let her go. 

"Wasn't that?" Sam asked as he moved to his father's side as he stood watching her retreating figure. 

"Yeah. It was." Was all Charles sadly said. 

"Hell. Dad!" Sam turned exasperated. "What you gonna do? Go after her, please, for God's sake."

"No. I don't think so." Charles sighed. "Not today anyway. It's not right." 

Sam knew not to push it, as his understanding of his father's condition well beyond his expected age. His Dad had had a long journey and was definitely on the road to being well again. Yet although he had got better, he still doubted himself and his worth daily. Especially where Molly was concerned. He was still tortured by the mistakes he had made during that time of his life when he let her go. 

"She came anyway." Sam in his wise wisdom as a sixteen year old stated. "Guess that means something?" He offered. 

Charles smiled at his pride and joy, pleased he hadn't lost Sam in all the mess he'd caused. Secretly smiling that his son's offerings of advice and wisdom were solely based on the experience he had from watching American sit coms and movies. 

"Sam." He gently steered him back into the small reception room that the Army had laid on. "No she didn't. She came for Grandpops. Not me."

Sam refused to believe it. Simply stating.

"Well she might have come for me...and Granny too?"

All Charles' response to this was to smile. It wasn't only him who missed Molly in their lives. Sam felt her loss too, all because of Charles' stupid actions and the guilt still ate away at him 

He, yet again did his duty. Moving around the hall, listening to others and their offered sadness at the loss of his father. It was delicate, and even awkward most of the time. Charles knew a large percentage of those there would have known of his past faults and humongous errors. Errors that lead to his Army career coming to an end, errors that had destroyed everything good in his life. Still he held his head up high and hoped, that despite the past couple of years of disappointment he knew his father had secretly felt over him, that today, for this moment at least, he would have been proud of his son doing his duty. 

"I'm taking your Mum back to the car now love." She gently said as she came up close to him. "She wants to go home." 

He turned and looked at the beautiful woman standing beside him. Her hair glossy and free, flowing in the breeze of the day. Her eyes full of emotion for him and his loss... his losses. Giving him her reassuring smile. He marvelled at her. This woman who had endured a lot because of him, sacrificed even more, still cared and still supported him. Taking today and numerous other bad days all in her stride.

"Of course." He smiled his thanks to her. "I'll be there soon." And quickly pecked her cheek as a small sign of thanks. 

Tenderly she touched his arm and smiled her smile at him. He once used to believe was just for him, but now he knew better, it was just how she smiled to everyone. She had a kind heart, despite what most people thought about her. Her history, and how she was portrayed, a far cry from the woman she now truly knew. Once this woman was demonised by others for her role in his life, in his divorce, but now all accepted her as necessary, permeant in his life no matter what.

He watched on as she kindly supported his mother out of the room. His mother who had aged considerably since her soul mate's death. He could only sympathise, and to an extent empathise. He knew what it felt like to lose the one, for you to lose your heart's song, to lose the reason for being…. forever. That's how he felt when he'd lost Molly. Of course he never said those words to his mother, he never made the comparison, it would have been unkind. Unfair. She had lost the love of her life due to old age and ill health. He'd lost his because of recklessness and utter stupidity. The circumstances were beyond compare, but his heart still hurt just the same. 

He watched his mother being helped into the car by her, and felt a pang of sadness at how grateful his mother was of her attention. His mother had little choice and had forgiven the past events, and because of this she had grown to depended on her a lot over the many months. Since Molly, since Molly and Charles had gone spectacularly wrong, there was a void, and so she had naturally stepped into the role of daughter-in-law to his needy mother. She, to her credit, had wanted to be there, constantly offering her help when needed and even in the beginning when not wanted. His parent's loyal to him, fierce, always on his side, but so disappointed by what he had done, that they had to accept her and that the truth was that Molly just wasn't simply coming back. 

So as time ticked on and Molly and Charles' world vanished more and more, as the days past, became months, years, she had started to become something permanent in his life once again. It was natural to see his mother and her together now a days. She was around a lot, and always included in his life, in a way he never imagined. It had surprised Charles at just how good for him she had actually been. How she had helped Charles in his darkest days. Helped them all in fact. Reasoned with him that it was not all his fault. Worked through the guilt they both felt about their history. That there were other players in the mess that involved his life. The Army, Molly and then Georgie... hell even Elvis...were involved in the different paths his life and hers had taken. He'd listened to her, accepted the help and counsel, but still blamed himself.

He now felt comfortable with her though, and these days that meant a lot. It wasn't a grand passion, it wasn't love, nothing like they had in the beginning of their relationship, but in a life with very little it was something. A friendship, and dependency had developed between them. Both were comfortable with that, and both enjoyed the relationship they had with each other. 

"Come on love." She smiled at him as he sat next to her in her car. "Let go home and get you pissed." 

For the first time that day. For the first time in days both Charles and his mother giggled. She had a way with words, he'd always like that about her, and the fact she made his mother smile made him happy. 

"You coming in?" He asked as she pulled up in front of their house hours later. Sam had already jumped out quickly helping his Granny to the front door, leaving them alone. 

"No. Best not love. Leave it to you and your Mum tonight." She smiled back at him gently. "Beside." She said more loudly as Sam jumped back in the car. "This one's got homework to do. " 

"Mum." Sam protested. 

Charles smiled and let out a half-hearted stern stare at his son. 

"Mum's right Sam. You've studying to do." He then smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow though scamp." 

Sam accepted he was beaten. When his mum and dad joined forces he never won. 

"Thanks Rebecca." Charles went to peck her on the cheek. "For today, the past couple of weeks... months. Well for everything." 

Rebecca smiled back at her ex-husband.

"It's nothing love." Then turning to the start the engine she added. "You know where I am if you need me?" 

"Give my love to Rob and the girls." Charles offered as he left the car and watch it drive away. Thankful that the relationship he had now with Rebecca was comfortable, friendly and without any awkwardness. That her new husband was strangely someone he viewed as a mate. A male friend he desperately had needed after Elvis had gone. 

Her second husband Rob, who she adored in a way she'd never adored Charles, was a good step dad to Sam. Her twin girls welcomed step sisters to Sam and his loneliness as a single child. They had all worked together well and Rebecca over the past year had been a brick of support. The first one to tell Charles how it was after he messed his life up, again. The first one to tell him he needed help and that he had lost one of the best things he'd ever have in life. He's already known that on some level, but to hear it out loud sobered him and brought him to realisation more than anyone ever had. Rebecca simply had kept him, his family and his son in his life. Never once allowing him to give up. Never once, since his therapy, allowed him to give up.

He slowly followed his mother into the house. Sadly watched as she took her shoes off and stepped into her slippers. Placing her hand softly on the old tattered pair of his fathers' that still remained by the front door.

"I'll miss him so much." Margaret James offered.

"I know Mum. Me too." Charles pulled her into a hug. "Just you and me now…. we'll get through this."

His mother smiled up at her tall son. From the age of 11 she had had to stretched her neck to look up at her baby that had suddenly grown taller than her overnight. Sam too had outstripped his Granny in height, and now she spent her life looking up at tall men in her family.

"It was nice of her to come." Was all his mother said as she remained in his hug. Physically he was strong, but emotionally she knew he had weakness and Molly was one of those.

"You saw?" He asked surprised.

His mother merely nodded and turned to climb the stairs.

"I'm tired Charles. Today has felt like a long day." She said as she stood half way up the stairs.

Suddenly she turned.

"Do you know what I'd give, if I had the chance….to have just one more hour, one more day with your Father?" She asked. "To tell him I love him, to hear him say he loved me?"

Charles remained mute, but shook his head.

"I'd give everything…absolutely everything." She choked out. "But I wont get that chance…..he's gone. He's dead Charles." As she wiped her eyes and calmed her breathing she pondered at her son, whose face showed pain too. "Don't waste that chance Charles. Don't waste a single opportunity…don't waste your life son." And then she turned and was gone. 

Molly tapped her spoon on the side of the coco pop bowel. Glaring at Bella. Her noisy eating and the constant pinging of her mobile phone wearing the little patience Molly had left with her younger sister. 

"Do you have to do that at the table?" Molly snapped. 

"What?" Bella innocently answered back. 

"Your phone...turn it on silent or something." Molly mumbled. "Anyway thought you didn't live here anymore?" Molly asked. 

"I don't." She replied. "I just thought I'd pop into say 'hi'." 

Molly scoffed but remained silent. She knew her sister had only called around to scrounge a meal from her parents as her giro must have ran out. She silently watched her. Her anger to her younger sister in the past few days had greatly diminished, but it wouldn't take a lot for it to remerge. Silence for now was the best one could hope for.

"Look Mols." Bella took a big breath. "You know I didn't mean it or anything don't ya? The Charles thing?" 

Molly stared and said nothing 

Bella bravely continued. 

"It was a mistake. How was I to know he had the same name as his dad?" 

"Well maybe if you'd paid attention." Molly moaned. "God Bella I was married to him for four year, with him five. You should have known his father's name." 

"I did." Bella protested. "Benny." 

"Yeah well if you invested in any part of your life in asking about others you might have known his proper name. Mum did." She sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway." 

"Yeah it does." Bella spat back. 

Molly glared again. 

"What?" 

"Well. You obviously still love him." Bella argued. "Heartbroken you were when you thought he was dead." 

"Shit...Bella... leave it." Molly asked standing, rushing from the table. Getting ready to leave.

"Well someone's got to get your head out your arse and make you realise Mols." She shouted as her sister ran up the stairs. "Before you lose him again." Then as a parting shot. "you still love him."

Molly slammed the bedroom door and threw herself on the bed. She stayed there until her mum called up to her. For hours she'd sat wallowing and wondering. She'd lost him once... now she just didn't know what to do.

"Mols there's someone at the door for you." She shouted up. 

A sinking feeling hit Molly's stomach. She knew that this would happen. She knew as soon as he knew she was back, when he'd seen her again, that he'd come to visit. And she also knew there was now no running away from his arrival at her front door. 

She tidied herself up. Her hands were shaking, she was nervous and that little bubble of excitement she always got wiggled its way inside her. No matter what she knew Charles would always have that effect on her. No matter what she knew she would always love him. Maybe not like him, trust him, or forgive him, but she'd always love him. 

Slowly she walked downstairs to meet him. Calm and collected wondering what he'd say to her after all these years. Wondering what she'd say back to him. Where they would start. Knowing that no matter what she'd try to be kind about his loss. He, she imagine would have had a hard time, losing his beloved father, and appreciated, despite it all, he'd had the courage to come to her, the least she could therefore do would be nice. Prove to him she was a better person, the one he had always used to believe her to be. 

His back was facing her as she entered the sitting room. The suit he wore was the first thing she understood, and saw. Smart, but quiet ill-fitting and crumpled. The disappointment she felt was almost crushing. 

He turned and smiled, a forced false smile at her. His countenance was obvious. He was here on business. One thing on his mind. No need for small talk. 

"Ms Molly Dawes?" He asked. Then without waiting for an answer. He continued. "My name is Jones. Peter Jones. I'm acting on behalf of my former client. Major Charles Benjamin Harold James. I believe you knew him?" 

Molly weakly nodded. Her mind screaming about how unfair it all was. How she had so hoped it was Charles who had called on her. How lost she felt that it wasn't. 

Jones continued.

"You were briefly married to his son I believe? Captain Charles James." 

The use of the term briefly hurt Molly. Again she just nodded. 

"I'm here because Major James bequeathed a sum of money to you in his will." 

Molly was dumb founded. Finally she found her voice. 

"What?" 

"Yes indeed. He left you quite a substantial amount. Ms Dawes." And he handed over her a letter. 

She took her time and read the words... and the conditions attached. Her mother peaked over her shoulder as Molly dumbly held out the accompanying cheque in her hand. 

"Bleeding hell Molly. I've never seen that many zeros before!" Dave said as he snatch the letter from her stalled hand.

Eventually Molly spoke. The solicitor was starting to look uncomfortable.

"I don't want it. The money." She said with utter conviction. "Thank you."

She snatched the paper back off Dave who was speechless. The sum mentioned left to her by Benny was something he could never imagine, or hope to ever possess.

"Can you inform whoever... his wife... that I can't accept it?" She politely asked.

"The family are unaware of Major James' bequest to you Ms Dawes." Jones stiffly answered.

He continued.

"My former client was quite certain that this would be your response, that you'd foolishly refuse, and so he drew up a suggestion with regards to the use of the money."

He handed Molly another much larger thicker envelope. Snapping his briefcase shut.

"You have 48 hours to make a decision." He said turning to leave. "My contact details are in there. I look forward to hearing from you." And then he went.

Molly pulled the sheets and sheet of pages from the envelope.

"What is it love?" Belinda asked. "What's it say?"

Molly read on, and eventually a smile crept across her face. Giving nothing away apart from the words.

"That crafty old bugger." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Lizard**

**Chapter 3**

She slowly took herself upstairs and sank down into her bed.

Running away from, and ignoring her father's rantings on downstairs at her refusal to take the money personally. There was no way he'd ever understand her reasons why, so after a few attempts Molly just stopped trying.

She took deep breaths and calmed herself. She needed to be alone to read this. To give it time.

She need to read his words and allow them to sink in.

She needed to give her undivided self to his missive.

It was the right thing to do. Benny and Margaret had once meant so much to her, had always been so kind, so welcoming that she knew at the very least she owed them this.

She began to read.

_Hello Molly._

_Thank you for taking time to read the ramblings of a dying man. _

_Margaret and I knew this day was coming, but even so it's a hard thing to face. _

_Knowing we have had a good life together and that we have had time to say the things we need to say, to those who mean the most, and to each other, helps a little though._

_There are so many emotions going through my mind in writing this letter to you, but the main one is hope. _

_Hope that you will make contact with Margaret, and allow her to be part of your life once more. Hope that you will visit her, and in that special Molly way help her not to miss me too much once I'm gone. Hope, that you can make contact in some shape, form or manner with Sam too. He's a fine young man now. You'd be proud of him. Both Margaret and I are, and I know he misses you. _

_Talking of Margaret. She very much knows about the bequest... it's one we are both making to you. We have discussed it and it only seemed fair that we did. _

_We feel that this is your inheritance. What you would have received if Charles hadn't done what he did. We know you left the marriage with little. That you really didn't ask for anything. Too proud. _

_Don't panic though. As I say Margaret knows, but Charles most certainly doesn't. There's just no need. This is our business. Mine, Margaret's and Molly's. Not his.  
_

_I said I was experiencing many emotions writing this Molly. _

_This is another one...I'm also very __sad __to write to you. _

_Sad in knowing that in me writing this letter it's the only contact I'll ever have with you again, and knowing if you're reading it... I'll be dead. _

_Yet that's not what makes me the most sad...__….being dead. _

_I'm sad because by you holding this paper in your hands I know it means that you and Charles have not reconciled in any small way. You are still strangers to each other, for my solicitor has strict instructions, you see, to only offer you your inheritance if there was still an estrangement between yourselves. _

_You reading this means that there is. _

_I won't pass judgement on you Molly, or offer you any advice or opinions. Margaret and I totally understand that you did what you had to do after Charles' actions. That ultimately he left you no choice. _

_We very much hope too that eventually you understand that we had to take a side, as it were. That we had to support our son. He is our only child, and even though we didn't understand what he did, and still don't. Even though we will never agree with the life he chose, the path he took after you, we still love you and miss your laughter and company more than we will ever admit to anyone.  
_

_I know you Molly, we all did, and were so proud that you were one of our family. A dull straight family until you came along and punched some fun into us. That's why I know, as I write, I am fairly sure that you will be reading this letter. That you have said 'no' to taking the money for personal gain. _

_You see I know you ... and that you'd be too stubborn to have anything to do with James again, and therefore too stubborn to take the money for yourself. _

_Which is why I've come up with an alternative._

_I have to say though I applaud you young lady and hope that your morals, and principles serve you well in your life, wherever that takes you. _

_That you are happy, and find someone who can take away the hurt and pain in your heart. _

_Both Margaret and I mean that. We would never suggest you involve yourself with anything or anyone that isn't right for you. _

_So do not worry this letter is not some primitive way to push you back into Charles' arms. To trick you. I know that would be futile, and that you have to find your own way back, if that's what you want._

_This letter instead is to give you some options. _

_The money is there. Quite a large sum I admit, and if you don't feel able to take it yourself, then I have attached several charities Margaret and I have been involved in over the years that may benefit from a 'mysterious donor'. _

_I've enclosed the details of the three most close to our hearts and will leave it down to you to decide._

_The money is yours though Molly Dawes. _

_Yours to do whatever you want to do with. _

_Keep it or donate it. _

_I know you'll make the right choice. You always did._

_Now it only falls to me to say goodbye. _

_Something Margaret and I never got the privilege of doing before you left our lives and disappeared. When you ran from the nightmare that you were living in, you didn't only leave behind a marriage, a husband, you also left his family behind too. _

_So because I'm a dying man, because I won't be in the same room to suffer your infamous temper when pushed, I beg this and only this of you... contact Margaret. Please._

_Make her smile again with your wit, laughter and brilliance. Give her some sunshine in her otherwise dull days. _

_That's all I ask Molly, that and for you to spend the money wisely._

_Good bye my dear. _

_It was an honour knowing you. _

_Short though it was you made us all so grateful that you were 'ours'... ours, though we wished it had been for much longer. _

_Love and respect. _

_Benny James. _

_Xxxx  
_

The tears flowed down Molly's face.

She'd missed them too and Benny's words had hurt, as they made her realise just what she had lost all over again.

Yet despite it all she also knew some of the tears were tears of happiness too. Happiness that maybe there now was a way back, that's she'd never found before, into seeing Margaret again and making Benny proud of her.

She knew she wouldn't take the money. she knew she'd donate it to a charity instead. That felt the right thing to do.

Molly looked at the list of three enclosed with Benny's letter. It didn't take her long to choose.

The three charities so very different from each other, yet there was one that stood out to her immediately. One that she felt was the most deserving of the money. One she was delighted existed, and that Benny had been so involved with, and one she knew he would have approved of the money being donated to.

Charles sat wearily in the driver's seat and started up the engine. Giving her a half-hearted wave as he left. He hated her getting up in the ungodly hours of the morning to see him off. Yet she always did.

He hated it because he hated goodbyes, always had, and had always avoided them whenever he could. Tours, training exercises, conference away, he'd always just preferred to slip away, in the middle of the night. No fuss. Avoiding the tears and heart ache that inevitably came with goodbyes. It was easier for him, and others he felt, therefore just to slip away quietly.

However there were only two people in his life that refused to allow that to happen.

His mother, as she had just done, was always awake and up for his leave. Always said goodbye to him, no matter where he went or what time he left. She never let him go with about a hug and a kiss.

The second person who refused to let him go without even the smallest of send offs was Molly.

He didn't mind. In fact he secretly cherished their goodbyes. Molly was always so full of energy, so full of the right words to say, the right things to do for him as they said their goodbyes.

With Molly's his goodbyes had never been short or regretted. They had always been just right. They had always been the memory that saw him through the hardest of hours. Memories of her repeatedly telling him of her love for him, and their life together. Plans that they would have on his return and the need for him to come back to her. Every word she uttered suiting these goodbyes, that could go on for days before his actual departure, stayed in his heart and mind. Keeping him happy and secure in all he had.

That was until Elvis, until Charles' head and heart were too full of grief to feel anything else. And so he stopped listening to her, stopped hearing her words of love to him, and by simply stopping them that was how he slowly started to break them.

Now he would have given anything to be disturbed by her again. Now his ears were open. Now he was ready to listen. Yet now all he could hear was silence.

The roads were empty at this time of the day and the morning was grey. The sun hadn't risen yet. Autumn was starting on its way, and the sun was becoming lazy.

The early start was necessary for Charles to get back to work. A fair drive from Bath to his new home, and having used his allotted bereavement leave up he needed to get back to work. It was time to start again, his new life. The new life he led, first without Molly in it, now without his father in it.

He wasn't in a rush to return back to work, yet he needed to. Work, it was a job he had been lucky to get. A job he didn't particularly enjoy, and one he was overly qualified for, but still one he couldn't afford to lose it or put a foot wrong in.

Knowing his previous employment history and discharge from the Army would always be a mark against his name in any job market, meant he was just grateful he had work. He knew an Army reputation only meant something if your Army career had been a good one, and had the references to match. Charles, due to his foolishness had exactly the opposite CV to be seen as desirable anymore.

After Lane, after the cliff jump, he was questioned, disciplined and discharged. He accepted each and every black mark and accusation thrown at him. He knew he deserved each and every one, if not more. His past good service went to some way to mitigate the charges, but still Charles and the Army parted ways.

Help was offered, a condition for a lesser punishment, if he accepted it. He agreed and this help was strongly enforced, by the Army, his parent's and especially by Rebecca.

Sceptical at first he accepted the therapy as it was the only way to escape his parent's home and their preaching. He found those first few months at his childhood home draining. Watching the disappointed looks on his parent's faces day after day became his daily torture. The therapy was a means to initially escape, and then suddenly one day, it started to help. It started to change things, how he felt, what he knew. It started to lift the cloud that had enveloped him. It stared to make him turn back into the Charles James he once again recognised.

The therapy, the help, worked, but help came too late, he'd already lost Molly!

Financially, during this time he was dependent on the generosity of his parents. Rebecca, caring, supportive, accepting child maintenance was for now not so forth coming held her tongue.

He spent many a day sitting thinking on his situation as he applied for job after job. A grown man, divorcing for the second time, finding himself unemployed and living back with his parents. It was farcical. Yet this was where he had to be. The option of returning to the marital home too traumatic and guilt laden for him even to contemplate, besides it was Army quarters they had lived in. It came with his job, and once that was gone, so very quickly the house they both had once loved, was gone too. That hit him hard, the loss of a base, a permanent return address that every soldier converted. It hurt for him and he knew it would hurt Molly too. Not only had he abandoned his wife, they would see he had cheated on her, and the piece de resistance in his list of crimes, he had made her homeless too.

The lighter traffic and early start meant he arrived at his desk earlier than usual. Much earlier than the rest of the office crowd, and that suited him just fine.

He was now working for an insurance firm, processing policies and claims. Dealing with data, facts, figures rather than people. His choice as his past had shown when he had worked with humans it had gone disastrously wrong.

The desk job, he'd once told Molly something he could ever consider doing, he now was doing. To survive, to keep his sanity, and to keep his head above water. It was a total change to the life he had once had, a change from all his dreams and wants from his life. A world of artificial lighting and paper work. Worlds away from the theatre of soldiers and power he used to thrive in.

It was a job. The first one he'd been successful at getting after many months of looking. Reluctant to take it at first, but his bank balance and his therapist both thought it was a wise choice. The therapist felt that to live in a different world to what he had known, and messed up, would assist in helping him to come to terms with the changes that had occurred over the years.

It wasn't a punishment; it was an altered situation that in the early days had kept him away from so many potential triggers to his mental health issues. So far it was working. His life was even and calm. He had a degree of acceptance and a 'calmness in his nut'.

The job was not one he never would have considered. The pay each month was not something he'd ever really imagine either. Expecting that after all his years of education, all his military training, qualifications and rising to the rank of a Captain in the British Army, any job he got in civvy street would pay much more than he now actually earned.

Yet he was magnanimous... this was now his lot in life. He worked hard, came in early, left late and got the work done. His work colleagues were friendly, welcoming and every now and then he'd socialised with them. Not too often. As nights out with work colleagues led to questions being asked, histories probed, and work boundaries being blurred. An area he knew only too well and never wished to confuse them again.

His social life had considerably shrunk though since he'd left the Army. His old section forced to take sides, and some had even struggled as they lost respect for him as a man, and the role he had in their lives.

He lost contact with many of his old comrades too. They were too quick to judge and condemn his actions. He wasn't invited back to reunions, regimental celebrations, and he very much doubted if he would have attended if he ever was.

The positive side to this new life though was he saw Sam regularly. His son used him as a hotel and taxi driver for his social life in and out of London. He still saw Elvis' family too, and therefore inevitably Lane, and Brains, who was his sponsor, his confident and true friend. Other than that his life revolved around the volunteering work he did three nights a week.

The volunteering side of his life would not have been something that Charles would have actively sort out, but it was part of his therapy and pay back to society he felt. Initially a chore, now it was something he truly looked forward to each night he was there. It was a constant, and a dependable factor in his life. When almost everything else in his life wasn't, he still had that.

After he had sounded the death knell of his marriage. After he had over stepped the mark with Georgie. After accepting Molly had really gone, Charles had taken many months to truly realise what he had done and why. For a brief while they had tried, Charles and Georgie that is. Had a few more intimate and awkward hook ups, but the dawning of just how wrong it was, how uncomfortable it was, plus the scrutiny of their roles and the appropriateness of it all broke them.

Neither of them were sad. Neither regretted it not working, both had been blinded by grief and were both desperately attempting to grasp on to something in their messed up worlds.

The simple fact that Georgie still wore Elvis' ring constantly around her neck, and its ever presence when they came together said it all. That and the fact Charles had ruefully imagined it was Molly in his arms each and every time spoke volumes to both of them as well.

And so they accepted their huge errors all too late. Accepted the career changing mess they made of it all, and went their separate ways. Still friends but neither had the need, or inclination to want anything more.

To Charles, betraying Molly with Georgie, had been the most depraved thing he could possibly have done, and he fully understood why it hurt her so. Why she couldn't forgive. Yet it was also one of the major things that made him and others realise just how low he had gotten and how much help he now needed. How that just wasn't him. So despite it all, his therapist had taught him not to hate, dislike, Georgie, but to view her as a catalyst to his recovery. To be the one that changed his ways and help bring him back.

Yet he had lost so much. He had lost things that had been his world and he knew he would never get them back. His career for one, but even that loss paled into insignificance compared to losing Molly. He had lost his Molly. Most days as he thought of her, of what had happened, of what they had lost, he could only feel regret. Occasionally, but less so now, he felt a small explosion of anger towards Georgie who was after all a trained medic, the one who should have intervened to help him when he was ill. Rather than being the main reason for his ruinous downfall. Yet he tried to curb his thoughts of blame. Knowing throughout it all blame would bring nothing back, apart from painful memories.

"I think you've made a good choice there Ms Dawes." Jones said as she sat uncomfortable in his office the very next day. She didn't like this man and was pleased that after today her contact would be through letters and e mails only.

"Yeah. I think I have." She agreed and then realised he wasn't expecting her confirmation, or for her to even speak at all.

He looked at her over the top of his glasses sternly and continued.

"So Friday night you'll meet Gerard Cutter at the charity's building and he'll run thought all their works and projects that your money will help. And..." He continued holding his hand up to stop Molly from taking. "No one apart from him knows about the donation... just as you wished. As far as anyone else is concerned you're a prospective volunteer having a look around."

Molly thanked him and quickly left.

Out of the three charities Benny had suggested she was fairly certain he knew she'd pick this one. It was an organisation that helped immigrants and families. Those poor folks ravaged by war, conflict, and family break ups. Those who had to come to her country as strangers and depended on their kindness to help them get back on their feet. This charity seemed to do exactly that very successfully. From monetary advice, to English lessons, to homing and employment issues, the charity helped one and all regardless of race, creed or colour.

To Molly she felt it was similar to the charity that eventually Bashir had been helped by. Those kind people had taken her in and had made her feel safe and had transformed her shattered her life. Although Molly only had little contact with Qaseem over the years, and none directly with Bashira, she knew that at least she hadn't been abandoned by everyone when her life was torn apart, and that a charity helped her to succeed.

Molly felt therefore that it was only fitting that this sudden windfall she had inherited for Benny should be put into such as charity as this.

She arrived late, thanks to traffic and her not knowing this area just outside of London well.

Plus there had been an accident on the way there that had seemed complicated though minor, and had caused long road delays. In days gone by she might have been tempted to stop and help.

Late though she was the charity's leader was just as welcoming.

As she arrived she saw the tall, lean man waiting for her. Expecting her, pacing anxiously up and down. On her arrival he beamed at her.

"Ms Dawes." He greeted her so very formally. "Welcome. We were getting a bit concerned. There's been a bit of an accident and a few volunteers haven't turned in tonight. We feared you'd suffered the same fate." Gerard Cutter kindly rambled on.

She accepted his welcome and offer to show her all the good works going on around the thriving centre. Gerard explained to her how it all worked and the classes that were on offer tonight.

"Usually it's an English lesson, then followed by a session for anyone with regards to applications. We have all sorts of questions asked here. Some would shock you." He laughed. Then looked worried. "Sorry though tonight one of our main volunteers hasn't showed up. He's one of the best. Nothing phases him."

Molly spent the next two hours meeting families, students and a handful of volunteers and learnt everything about the charity that she could learn. Even though happy with what she saw, her head was boxed in with all the information she had received, and welcomed a sit down in the office.

Still Gerard continued to talk, obviously very proud of what they achieved.

"We work very hard, and have been going for nearly five years. Benny was very supportive when we started. I believe he had family members that had experienced with the uncertainties families can face during and after conflict."

Molly listened, and smiled. Muttering a phrase she'd use several times over the past few days.

"The crafty old bugger."

She knew, now that Benny hadn't given her the choice as soon as she had read about this charity, she knew, he knew, it would be the one to benefit from the money.

"Anyway. We depend heavily on our volunteers." Gerard continued. "In fact the one I wanted you to meet has just text to stay he is 10 mins away. So maybe you'd like to hold on and meet him after all?"

"Thanks. But no. Best be going. Thank you though." She said as she stood up and offered her hand.

"My pleasure and it's a shame. He's very inspirational. Very dedicated, commanding, and has come with a lot of ideas and suggestions we would never have consider."

"He sounds brilliant." Molly politely said and then made her excuses to leave.

Praying she'd find her car as she had been unsure of the street she parked it in.

Charles cursed. He hated being late. He hated letting people down, but the accident was not his fault. Plus as soon as he has seen that people were only minimally hurt but very confused by it all, he took charge of the situation. Stayed in command until the emergency services arrived. He helped the strangers, and his intervention prevented more casualties, further accidents, but in doing so he'd made himself late.

He guessed a man in his mid-thirties usually didn't spend their Friday nights volunteering at a charity, but it's what he he did. It's what he loved. He was committed to it.

As he left the car the rain started to thunderously fall. Within moments he was soaked as he had no umbrella. He pulled his coat collar up high and tight and pulled the hood on his jumper down over, partly covering his face. Trying to get some protection. The charity's building was a few blocks away and the night was dark. His mood matched the twilight that was setting in.

Molly squealed as the rain poured down out of nowhere. This wasn't expected, but thanks to her Gran and the old fashioned values she had installed in her as a girl, Molly had a small compact umbrella in her bag and instantly sort it out and deployed it. She wrapped the fashion scarf up tightly around her hair and her entire face for extra protection and ran.

Charles jumped avoiding puddles that were very quickly forming, paying little attention to anything apart from dodging other victims of the rain and the traffic as he crossed the street.

Molly finally recognised where she was and saw her car, her dry sanctuary in the distance. The offer of getting out of the rain and into the dry car made her legs go faster. That and the fact the street lamps were dodgy on this road and it was very poorly lit. She felt a little on edge and was more determined to get to her car as quick as she could.

Charles was certain that the rain was getting heavier and he was becoming soaked. Mindful after the time he had had off over his father's ill health the last thing he wanted was to become unwell, and needing sick time too. So he ran, past the parked cars and then ran even faster.

Their bodies banged into each other with such a force bouncing them off each other. Neither fell and neither were hurt. Yet both were stilled by the impact.

"Bleeding hell mate." She mumble out through the scarf that muffled her voice, and hid her face. The sounds of the rain falling almost causing her voice to be lost to his ears.

Yet he heard, just.

"Sorry you ok?" He asked politely. Looking around on the ground to see if anything had fallen in their collision.

"Yeah. Thanks. You?" She asked as a wave of familiarity in his voice hit her. His face was partly hidden, and apart from his voice at that moment she struggled for any other clues.

"Fine. Thanks." Stiff and very British. And he started to turn away. "I best be going." He politely turned back. "I'm already late."

"Yeah." Was all she offered. Amazed she could get any words out at all. "Me too."

She could tell he stalled, as though an unreasonable thought crossed his mind, and then she watched the small part of his face that was visible to her. She watched as his handsome face dismissed whatever it was he'd been thinking.

"Sorry." Again he offered, but this time with slight confusion in his voice, and he continued to run in the direction she had just come from.

Molly knew.

The bump, the familiarity of it all. The sensations she had instantly felt as she heard his voice.

He might not have understood but she did.

He might have thought they were two strangers who had collided but she knew differently.

That it was Charles. Her ex-husband Charles James she had just bumped into.

She had recognised him, but she doubted he had recognised her.

As she sat in the car waiting for the dampness to leave the windscreen, she pondered the not too happily coincidence of it all.

Amazed of all the streets, of all the places, to bump into him after all these years.

That they were both in the same place at the same time, the odds were huge.

Yet it had just happened.

And then it hit her.

The charity.

Benny had suggested it.

The volunteer that Gerard had talked about. Efficient. Commanding. A leader.

It was no coincidence.

She should have been mad. Annoyed.

She should have been indignant that even from the grave Benny was, despite his assurances, trying to interfere... but she wasn't.

She started the car's engine and set off in the direction of her parent's home.

Smiling.

She had seen Charles again.

The second time in as many weeks, and nothing had happened. She hadn't broken down. She hadn't made a fool of herself. She had, she believed grown impervious to him.

Besides she only had a week left of her leave before she headed back out to New Zealand for their summer season. What harm had been done?

None she maturely reasoned.

"The crafty bugger."

Was instead all she chuckled out as she drove off with a smile plastered to her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Lizard

Chapter 4

The nerves as she stood outside his front door were almost touchable. Yet she knew she had to do this, there was no more running away. This was important, and she needed to face up to her past, and finally she wanted to.

She knocked heavily on the old fashion front door of the imposing number 20, Royal Crescent, and waited.

It had been too long in coming this reunion, but then seeing him again at Benny's memorial, the bumping into him on the street a few nights ago, all served as reminders. She couldn't run forever. Whatever had passed between them perhaps needed to be resolved to some degree, and that was why she was here standing outside his family's home... waiting.

She heard the sounds of movement behind the solid mass, and waited a bit longer. After so many years the wait however did not seem long enough.

Despite the delay in answering it, the door was finally thrown open by the equally nervous, but excited occupant. No words were said. They both took each other in, three years of not being this close, causing their eyes to feast on the other. Moments passed and then, as if rehearsed they fell into each other arms. Tears rushed down both their faces, a mixture of pure happiness and sadness, marking all they had lost. Yet they both understood, it had been right to finally make contact, so right to be reunited.

Soon, too soon she was pushed away from the hug and was staring into tear filled brown eyes that stared equally into hers. Her arms held as she was looked upon once again lovingly. She knew then making contact, swallowing her pride, had been the right thing to do.

"Oh I've missed you so much Molly." She said, and beamed her smile that Molly remembered was so similar to that of her traitorous son's.

"I've missed you to Margaret." Molly replied back. Happy to be standing in front of Charles' mum again after all these years.

Eventually they moved off the door step. The neighbours had had enough of a show, and Molly followed Margaret, slowly into the kitchen. On high alert, at all times, at being back within the home that used to be hers, when she was still with him. Margaret hopped and ineffectively used her stick as she lead the way.

It had taken courage for Molly to contact Margaret. To say 'hello' again, but she knew she wanted to do it, after seeing her in the distance at the memorial. Margaret on her part was thrilled and was forgiving, and understanding. And so these two friends came together like it was only yesterday since they last spoke.

When Molly called they had talked easily over the phone, but both knew it was not enough. So they arranged to meet, on neutral ground, somewhere 'nice' and plans were made. A date was set.

These plans, changed quickly though as Margaret slipped on her back step, twisted her ankle, and Molly bravely opted to go and visit her instead. Plans were remade, reassurances given that Charles would not be there, and a new date was set. And that was how she came this late Monday morning to be once again back in a home she thought she'd never see again.

The kitchen always used to be her favourite place, and Molly enjoyed being in the homely room once more. Memories filled her eyes everywhere she looked. Reluctantly though, she found that they eventually moved to the sitting room, where it was more comfortable for Margaret to rest.

Both of them slipped into their friendship with ease, as though no time, no heartache had passed.

They sat and talked for hours. Molly was caught up to date with all the history, the happy times and the sad times, of a family she once belonged to. Heard all about what had been happening in her absence, and found she regretted not being part of it. Apologies were offered on both sides, and both hearts were forgiving, for the circumstance beyond their control.

As Molly listened, as Molly talked, sat there in the comfortable front room, her heart remembered. Remembered all those times she had sat there with Charles. Remembered the times they had had family nights, with Benny, and Sam, whenever her and Charles visited. She remembered how happy she had once been, and despite the pain that came with the memories she found she still smiled.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he'd been off all weekend. Unsettled. Ever since Friday night, ever since his session at the charity centre, something had been niggling away at him. He knew he'd been late, the accident to blame, and yet he knew that was not enough to unsettle him. He had seen worse. He knew he'd arrived soaking wet, due to the rain, flustered and had only half listened to Gerard, who was rambling on about donations and a visitor, but he knew that wasn't enough to throw him off like this. He felt all kinds of wrong. All weekend he brooded over what it was.

He brooded, because that was something he did a lot. Molly in their early days used to tease him about his ability to dwell. Where he called it reflecting, she called it sulking, and as their marriage fell apart, as their world was destroyed he, after help, saw it for what it really was ... guilt. Yet it wasn't guilt he was feeling now. Instead he felt as though his life had hit an unexpected bump and he knew not why. He felt as though, briefly he'd had something, for a moment, and now he was missing it all over again. Something had been right there in front of him, something precious, and he hadn't seen it or held onto it.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly, as they always did for him now. He'd briefly had Sam over to stay, and had intended to visit his Mum but time had slipped away as he mulled over his feelings, and he promised himself he'd visit her the next weekend instead. The guilt over that crashed around him though when she called, on the Sunday, to say that she had fallen and twisted her ankle. He felt disappointed with himself all over again, and promised to see her soon. Realising sadly that despite all his promises, all his therapy he still was letting people down, and soon all thoughts of what he felt he'd been missing left him, while he focused on the practical issues of his Mum and his planned visit her.

Molly watched as Margaret wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes again. Today had been a good day for them both. Therapeutic, so much so Molly had stayed a lot longer than she had planned. Although never truly believing that the first contact with her lost family would be brief. They had always been too welcoming, to loving to let you go too soon.

The early afternoon soon turned into late afternoon, and the sun was getting sleepy. She was mid laugh, yet again, as she heard the front door open and slam shut with determination. She knew only James men held the power over the old heavy door to make such a noise, and she began to prepare.

"It's just me."

He shouted as he shook his coat off in the hall way and started walking through the house to find her.

"Where you hiding?" He said as he did so, searching.

Molly froze and saw Margaret's face paralysed with fear and apologies.

"Molly." She said quietly. "I didn't know. Wasn't expecting him." Leaning over she grabbed her hand to stop her from running. "He'll be so happy to see you."

Molly sprang up from her sitting position and stood ridged, mentally preparing herself to see him again. Her heart beating fast and loudly. Her mouth dry, as fear and excitement coursed through her body.

Eventually the front room door burst open with the flurry of youth and excitement.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her there, standing in front of him.

"Molly." He half cried out. The happiness in his voice not able to be disguised. "What are you doing here?" He asked trying to understand.

And with those words he rushed over to her side and pulled her into one of his never forgotten hugs.

Within seconds of feeling his arms around her, she found she was hugging him back. Tightly. It was automatic.

Tears rolled down her face from happiness. Happy to be holding him again. Happy to have the privilege of being with him again. They hugged for what seemed liked minutes, he was holding on to her just as tightly as she was holding on to him.

"I've missed you so much." She heard him sob out. "I missed you Molly."

These words caused her eyes to leak even more. She had difficulty in seeing anything, but she did notice a movement over his shoulder. The gasp and small laugh made her identify the person immediately. A voice she knew, and an outline of a perfect figure she remembered, even if she still could not focus because of the tears, she knew who it was. She slightly pulled back from the hug.

He turned suddenly as he too noticed the arrival of another body beside Molly and Margaret. Momentarily confused by Molly's response.

"Mum." He smiled out when he turned and saw her. "Look who it is? It's Molly. Isn't it great?" He said as Rebecca stood cautiously still in the doorway.

Rebecca smiled back at her son, then smiled slowly but with genuine happiness at Molly.

"I can see that Sam, and yes it is." Rebecca said with just as much emotion as her son had.

As Sam moved away from Molly, but still close by, it was now Rebecca's turn to hug her. This time hesitantly, and reserved. Unsure if she'd be welcomed.

"Hello Molly." She said. "It's been a long time."

Molly recovered her voice, gathered her emotions.

"Yes it has." She smiled and looked between Sam and his mum. Two more people she'd lost because of Charles. "It's so good to see you both again. So good." And she returned Rebecca's hug with warmth.

Despite how it should have been, despite that frosty first meeting by Charles' hospital bed, over the years of Molly's relationship with Charles, her and Rebecca actually had become friends.

Molly had seen very early on in their relationship that the ex-wife as absolutely no threat. While Rebecca saw only the close positive friendship Molly developed with their son, and because of this the two ladies bonded. As time passed Rebecca had made no secret of the fact that she admired Molly for firstly putting up with Charles, and secondly for keeping his relationship with Sam tight despite their crazy work schedules. It was a happy friendship.

Seeing her standing in Margaret's house surprised her however. Seeing how affected her son was by seeing her again humbled her. Made her regret that maybe she should have tried harder to stay in touch with Molly, that maybe she shouldn't have focused entirely on Charles as he recovered. Again these two ladies had lots to talk about.

And so they talked. Sam asked hundreds of questions about Molly's life. Thrilled with what she now did and where she worked. They laughed about her experiences and stories. Sam continuing to ask hundreds more questions about Molly's job. They talked of each other's presence as well as the good old days, as they were referred to, where they all rightly looked back on with happiness. As though there was an unspoken rule however one subject firmly remained out of bounds... Charles.

Molly noticed again that several hours once passed in this renewed company. Thrilled in hearing Sam's news first hand, in hearing about his life, described in his own unique way, and what she had missed over the years. Delighted in the young man he was becoming. Proud of him beyond belief. Throughout it all, she noticed, he sat close by and shyly leaned in for a secret hug every now and then. She of course willing gave them.

"So mate?" She bumped his leg with hers. "Big exam year this school year?" Molly asked.

"Yeah." He replied and his face darkened.

"What's up?" She asked. She knew GCSEs were not her idea of fun but Sam was one bright kid.

"He's worried." Rebecca cut in. "Doesn't know what to do afterwards."

Molly turned and looked at him.

"Oh want are your choices?" She asked.

Sam smiled. It wasn't very often lately that he felt his opinion was asked.

"Sixth form. Maybe? College?" He hesitated.

"But?" She asked, she knew there was more.

"I want all that. I just think after my exams I want a bit of excitement, adventure you know?"

She laughed.

"Yeah I do mate. But I also know just how important exams are and school. They'll be plenty of time for adventure once you get them all."

Sam looked deflated. Hoping Molly might have been on his side. She saw straight away she had disappointed him, and it was left to Rebecca and Margaret to skilfully change the subject and the evening wore on.

She didn't get the chance to see any of them again before she went back to New Zealand. There was too much for Molly to do, too many family members to visit, and her time home was short. Yet she did, as she had pulled away that night, promised to keep in touch with them all. Sam ensuring that he taken her number, as well as she'd take his. He never wanted to be out of contact with Molly again.

As her life returned to its normal routine in New Zealand, as she got on with the job she was used to, she started for the first time in a long time, to feel settled. Working hard and finally playing hard, she'd found the Molly that had almost disappeared after Charles' betrayal. She was happy with her life, and the steps taken last time she was home helped with some of the sadness that was there in her life. Loving the regular contact she once again had with Sam and Margaret, and enjoying the occasional texts from Rebecca's too. For the first time in years, when Christmas came she received cards from then all, and smiled. Certain her address given to them with strict understanding would remain in their confidence. Molly felt good about these friendships and trusted them.

Her life rocked along with a small degree of happiness. Never once though sharing with anyone that she had bumped into Charles that night. That she had seen him again. Felt his body against hers, and instantly liked it. She'd instantly felt the old craving at this briefest contact. She felt too ashamed to admit that to anyone. She kept that secret to herself, and held onto it when she felt at her lowest. When she felt lonely and thousands of miles away from home, when her home sickness, made worse as the hot sunny months of December and January contrasted with the cold winter months stories told from home.

He sighed deeply. He'd had yet another argument with Sam about revision and knuckling down. It was now early April and his exams were seriously close, and both Rebecca and Charles were worried that Sam wasn't applying himself quite how he should be. Tonight, therefore, Charles had once again tackled his dedication and once again it had blown up into a huge row.

He poured himself a glass of wine and sat down in the garden. The early spring evening just pleasant enough for him to escape the toxic atmosphere of his home. He took a huge gulp of wine as he wearily ran his hands through his hair. He stared ahead and thought. Wondering if the cock ups he'd made in his life were the causes of his worries about Sam.

Life for Charles was still complicated. His job was still just that, a job, but there was, he hoped, a light at the end of the tunnel. The charity he volunteered with was looking for a new leader. Gerard was retiring in the coming months, and Charles had been asked to apply for the position. The flattery at being asked soon turned into determination. It would be something he knew he'd relish. Something he'd be proud of doing. A job he really felt he could own and enjoy. Realistically though Charles knew the competition was stiff and many, and so over the last weeks he'd prepared, studied and waited for the interview dates to be announced. Determined, like he once used to be, to fight back and gain some dignity in himself again.

Meanwhile he trudged with the work routine, broken up with the odd and far fewer weekends with Sam and visits to his Mum. He was happy to see his mother was, although still grieving for his father,

seemed at times to have a smile about her that reminded him of happier times. She continued her life, reluctantly, but didn't give up. Watching her he felt proud and ashamed. Seeing her resolve. Her battle on wards made him remember more acutely it was something Charles didn't do all those years ago when he lost Molly.

"I don't know what to do Charles." Rebecca had confided in him. "He's adamant he wants to travel after his exams, and that's all he'll talk about."

"Shit Rebecca. He's not even 17." Charles said shocked and wearily, he'd heard it all before from Sam though. "He's not capable of going off alone and doing something like that."

"Hell I know that Charles. He can't even find the laundry basket in his room, never mind how to bloody circumnavigate the globe." She bit back.

"So what we going to do?" He asked. Hopeful like so many times over the last couple of years Rebecca would have the solution to the problem.

"I don't know." She answered wearily. "I really don't know."

Wishing she had someone else to turn to for advice. Counsel. Then suddenly it came to her. Unsure just how she'd plan it, but certain that she could. She quickly rang off from talking to Charles with promises she'd call his within the next few days, reassuring him that she might just have a plan.

The wait seemed long. She had to wait nearly 12 hours before she could ask, and finally put the plan into a trip, but when she did, when her request had been granted, she smugly picked up the phone to 'discuss' it with Charles.

"New Zealand?" He said shocked. "That's bloody far. Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes. It's perfect!" Rebecca patiently explained. "I have a good friend who works out there. Can get him some outdoor activity work, cabin cleaning and the stuff for their ski season, our summer." She explained.

"Well. It sounds like a plan." Charles slowly replied. "Go through it one more time?" He asked.

"It's simple." She started to get excited. "We tell Sam that he has to buckle down and revise. That he has to get good GCSE results, and if we're happy he's put the effort in, been keen and that, then we'll allow him to go travelling during his summer break for two months. Come back in time for sixth form, college...whatever."

"Travelling?" Charles said concerned again.

"Not really." She continued. "Well. Yes to New Zealand, but that's it. Once he's there he'll stay with my friend for those months. It's perfect. He's there for part of their ski season, mid-June to September, and will get it out of his system." She laughed. "I mean my friend's told me it won't be a free pass; it will be hard work and that. What do you think?"

He had been shocked, but quickly realised she was right; this was the perfect solution.

"I think you're bloody clever Rebecca." Charles laughed as he considered it might just be the perfect plan. "Who's this friend again? Do I know them?"

Rebecca skilfully swept over the question. There were things he just didn't need to know. And so that was how the arguments of the past months were soon a distant memory and Sam started to knuckle down to revision. He knew full well it was a bribe. He knew full well he was being played, but he didn't care, he was getting something he really wanted. An adventure.

She stood at the arrivals gate more nervous than she had ever been for such a long time, and excited too. Constantly looking at her watch as the automatic doors kept fruitlessly opening and closing.

Eventually they opened and he walked through confidently, but she could see he was nervous. His personality and traits so similar to those of his father's. She felt a pang of loss at just how familiar he still was. She had a moment to take in this mirror imagine young man of her ex-husband, and found that remembering the similarities hurt. She drew in a long deep breath and pushed these thoughts aside. She watched as his eyes started to scan around the crowd so quickly that he missed her on the first scan.

"Sam. Sam." She shouted to him and in several steps he was close to her and hugged her tightly.

She smiled as he did so. She knew he was a big boy now, but every now and then there were moments when the little cute lad she had known and loved showed up.

"Come on let's go and get you settled." She said as she led the way out of the airport. "You must be knacked."

She drove slowly up the windy snowy pass to the resort she worked at. She'd managed to get him a job as a chalet boy for the three months he was out there. It had all be explained to him from the beginning. It was hard work but it meant he had time during the days for improving his skiing, and would have late evenings for having fun. Time to do what 17 year old boys liked to do.

When Rebecca had first called she'd been delighted and had his trip all planned very quickly. At first she'd thought he should stay with her in the little cabin she had been given with her post, realising how precious and honoured she was that Rebecca trusted her with her son. Meaning to take the very best of care of him. Then, as she thought more about his time out there with her, she changed her mind. Remembering what she was like at his age. Appreciating that sometimes you just did not need to know what boys got up to, and so she arranged a room for him in the staff quarters.

It didn't take him long to make friends and adapt. She was surprised at how quickly and settled he had become as he started off on his new adventure. She was proud to see the good start he'd made. Watching him from afar she was more than confident he could do the job in hand. Sam, worked hard, and played even harder. Occasionally, every now and then his antics would reach her ears. Totally harmless fun, and Molly could see from a distance he was having the time of his life. He was having the adventure he had desperately wanted.

They met initially once a week, on their days off, but very quickly it became less necessary as time went by. They talked as equals, as friends, and her reports home to Rebecca were always positive and happy. During these calls she never asked, didn't need to as it was her only condition all those months ago. Charles must not know her address, or her involvement in his son's adventure. She was therefore unsure what Charles actually knew of Sam's stay, but confident that Rebecca had trusted her need for privacy. There were a few close calls mind you when she herself very nearly gave the game away. More than once walking in on Sam FaceTiming his dad. Thankful that each and every time she did Charles had appeared too concerned and too happy to notice her figure briefly making an appearance in the corner of the screen.

"Promise me you'll be safe. You nutter." She said as she waved them off. A rare three day break for them all and Sam was heading off out in to the mountains with a group of her friends to do some off piste skiing. He was capable, the group was experienced and the routes known and deemed safe. She still worried like the mother hen she was. Molly's skiing nowhere near up to the standard needed for this trip, she had therefore reluctantly let him go on his own.

It was late when the call came in, and as soon as it did she knew. She heard the words and reacted as she ought to. Years of practice kicking in. She knew what she needed to do.

She picked up her phone again and hands shaking dialled his number.

"Charles?" She held her voice calm for merely a second before she broke down.

He asked back sleepily. Surprised. Confused about who, why he was being called by her.

"Charles?" She started again. "It's Sam." He instantly switched into warning mode, and had to wait a few tortuous seconds for her to begin again. "It's Sam." She said. "I'm so sorry... but there has been an accident."

"What?" He shot up from bed. Instantly the sleepiness clearing and now on high alert. "What's happened?" Tell me?" He begged her.

"He was skiing with a group of friends. I thought it was safe for them to go. He was so excited when he told me about it." She went on.

"It's ok." He said encouragingly, and she remember just how kind he could be. How she had once seen and felt his kind side in abundance when they had been married.

"They went off plan for a while. They was a land slip, an avalanche. A small one I think. I don't know for certain. He's missing." She broke down. "Oh Charles. He's missing. Sam's missing."

Charles listened to her cry; he hadn't heard her cry like this for such a long time. It rang painful memory bells in his heart.

"Ok. It's ok. Shit it's not. Fuck." He said trying to collect his wits. Feeling the words sink in and twist painful in his gut. "What's being done?" He asked, shocked as he felt his years of Army training kicking in.

"They are out there now looking. I've been told to stay by the phone to wait until there's any news." She quietly explained. "But it's so hard. I want to be there."

"Ok. Who's giving you the info? Who you talking to out there?" He asked in full Captain mode, hunting around his room for a pen and paper.

Listening to his chipped professional questions she amazingly felt a smile managed to skip across her lips. She instantly recognised the role her man had once played

"The search team..." And here she drew breath. The time for secrecy long gone. "My friend too."

"Right! And who's that's exactly! Your friend?" Charles asked, and as he did so he realised with the stress of the successful interview for his new job, and the demands of the charity, he was a little bit vague about the finer points of Sam's trip.

Rebecca knew she could hide it from him no more. She had in fact discussed it with Molly only minutes ago when she had called with the awful news. He had to know everything.

"Rebecca?" He asked again down the phone line. Gently pushing her but not wanting to scare her. "Who is your friend out there? Maybe I can talk to them to. Who is it?"

"It's Molly," She said loudly with conviction.

He heard her words.

Knew Rebeca meant Molly, his Molly, there was no other Molly it could be, yet he failed to understand. Failed to comprehend.

Emotions swirled around his head.

His Sam was missing. That was the main thought. The main concern.

Yet he couldn't give up, couldn't push the other thoughts from his head.

His boy was in danger, and it was his Molly who had put him there.


	5. Chapter 5

Lizard

Chapter 5

The angry banging on the door told her exactly who it was. She was surprised that he'd gotten there so quickly, yet she knew he would come. Knowing that it was inevitable, that he would eventually turn up at her door, but in honesty she had expected at least a little bit longer to prepare.

As soon as she opened the door he started. He almost pushed her out of the way with force as he entered her home. He was determined.

"What the hell were you thinking." He shouted at her. "Sam. Going off like that."

She said not a world but let him into her home. Every ounce of her concentrating on staying calm. Motioning with her head for him to follow her into the kitchen. Still she hadn't spoken.

"I mean." He continued without drawing breath. "It was just reckless and stupid. You shouldn't have let him go."

She spun around. Eyes flashing with anger. Desperately trying not to start shouting back at him. She knew when he was shouty this wasn't the way to reach him. It had been an emotional 48 hours for them all, and the last thing they needed was the start of a screaming match. Those days of their relationship had well and truly passed.

"Charles." She began slowly and deliberately. "He's safe; you know that? Right? It was just an accident."

"One that bloody well could have been prevented." He shouted again. "You had no right to keep it all a secret from me."

Rebecca watched as he sunk down onto the kitchen stool. He looked exhausted, just like she was. Their lives had been hell over the past couple of days, but now all was well. Sam has been found and though hundreds of miles away, he was safe.

Molly called Rebecca as soon as there was news, as soon as Sam and the rest of the party had been found. He was safe. They all were. He'd suffered six hours stranded out on a cold unforgiving piste. Had suffered a complicated fracture to his right leg, and dehydration, but their boy was safe. Now in hospital, safe, grateful and recovering. The news was the best it could possibly be. The group had stayed together. Had all helped each other out with the numerous injuries, and were now all recovering in the local hospital in New Zealand, and out of it all that was one of the hardest things to take. Knowing he was safe, but not being able to get to see him. To hold him. To tell him his Mum and Dad loved him. Rebecca knew that Molly would be caring for Sam, but she'd never take her place, and she found it hard that she wasn't there with him. The relief, and like her, having to endure the separation, she understood was the main reason for Charles' outburst. Charles was finding it all hard too.

Charles continued, but with less volume as he caught sight of the twins girls playing out in the garden, and felt ashamed.

"You should have told me." He said. "About Molly I mean. It was a shock."

Rebecca knew this was coming. That he still felt slightly betrayed by them all. She understood.

"She didn't want you to know." She truthfully and quietly answered him back.

His head shot up at this. Shocked and saddened.

"Besides if you did know, what would you have done? Would you have stopped him from going? Called her? Gone yourself?"

"No...I don't know." He answered, yet he did. If he'd known where she was, something he'd been trying to find out for nearly three years, he would have pursued her. "How long?" He asked, rather than confess.

"Just after Benny's memorial. We met at your Mum's" Rebecca said honestly. "A week or so afterwards."

"Mum has seen her too? Shit... that's nearly a year!" Charles was shocked again as he calculated the time. "For fucks sake Becky? A year and no one said?" He was hurt all over again.

His raised voice caused Rob to enter the kitchen and protectively put his arm around Rebecca.

"Voice. Language." Rob said sternly, though calmly. "Appreciate it being kept civil Charles."

Instantly Charles flushed. Realised that he had stepped over a boundary or two in another man's house, with another man's wife.

Rebecca dipped her head trying to hide the smile on hearing her ex-husband being chastised by her current one. It felt quite Neanderthal in away, two men asserting their roles in her life.

Rob continued, using Charles' silence to start things off again in a more positive note.

"The important thing here is Sam. Making sure he's alright. "

"Yes." Rebecca agreed. Then hesitated. "We thought it best to go out to see him as soon as possible."

"Of course." He nodded at this. "I'll come with you I'll arrange some time off and that." Running his hand through his hair as he started to work out the complications of it all.

Rebecca moved closer to him.

"Charles." She gently rested her hand on his arm. "I can't go. The twins need me here. They are too young to be left." She then looked across to Rob. "We thought with your new job, the cost of it all... and the Molly situation it would be best if Rob just goes." She drew back from him.

Charles' eyes flew up in surprise at her words. Shocked.

"What? But he's my son."

"We know that." Rob said. "But you aren't much help to him in the state you're in. Best I go." He then added apologetically. "I've a flight booked for the morning."

"Just like that?" He gasped out. "Just like that? Without even asking me. Talking to me?"

Rebecca's heart hurt when she looked at how deflated he was. Yet she knew it was for the best. He was too emotional about the Molly part of the situation, and they were concerned at how focused he'd be on Sam because of it. They never doubted his love for Sam or his dedication, but they too knew how desperately he wanted a chance to see Molly one more time. A chance to explain.

"It's for the best." She explained. "Let Rob go; and we'll see our little scamp when he comes home." Again she touched him, connected to him over their son.

It amazed him how right they were. He understood their concerns and the practicalities of it all, but still he was finding it hard to let go. He was used to being the one his son depended upon at times like these, used to being the 'go to man' in Sam's life. Yet he saw the reasons why this time that couldn't be his role. He therefore smiled grimly at the united front that stood there and nodded his head in agreement.

He didn't want to be angry. Not with her, not with any of them, but he was. Sam was safe and that was what mattered. Yet he was angry. _ His_ Molly had somehow become _their_ Molly. They had her in their lives, but still she wasn't in his. He'd thrown his chance away, and knew he deserved her silence, yet he still felt betrayed by them. And so he took his anger out, not on himself, because it was his actions that had lost her, but on Molly. Charles reverted back to type. Reverted back to the stern, shouty man he was once known to be in his early days with Molly. The man who shouted first, fired off his emotions, before even considering those of others.

He'd sent her text message after text message as soon as he demanded her number from Rebecca. He'd tried to call, but she never answered, and so the voice messages he left were just as angry as the text messages. He couldn't help himself, or stop himself.

For three years he had wanted, needed to know where she was. For three years she had been missing from his life. He'd given up hope, knew he deserved no second chance, and had resigned himself to a life without Molly. Yet when he saw her at his father's memorial, when he'd seen her for the briefest of moments he knew everything he felt for her, everything he knew of her was still there, and he still wanted her.

That was why he was so angry. That was why he was so upset. She'd taken everyone else back into her life. She accepted their apologies, and love for her, everyone apart from him. True, he was the biggest sinner out of them all, but still the one who loved her the most.

She watched as he slept. He looked so young and another wave of guilt and sadness washed over her. That had happened a lot over the past few days. They had nearly lost him and it was all her fault.

She had let him go on the skiing trip. She'd thought it was safe, but she'd been wrong and he'd got hurt. She silently cursed herself that it was yet another decision she'd messed up in her life, another decision that could of cost them all to lose something so precious. She deserved everything she got in way of abuse from Charles.

Charles has been very vocal about his opinion on events. Not that she had actually spoken to him, though he had called her numerous times she always allowed his calls to go to voice mail. Too much of a coward, not wanting to talk, to argue with him, after all this time. And so she now had an in box filled with his rants at her stupidity and irresponsiveness. She'd bravely listened to them, and they had hurt her to hear his words. She didn't need Charles shouting at her to be reminded just how close they all were to losing Sam.

Making that call to Rebecca. Breaking the news that Sam was missing was singularly the worst experience she'd ever had. Charles' betrayal, Elvis' death, nothing came close to telling a mother that her son was missing. In those dreadful long dark hours, while the mountain rescue team were out searching, she kept in touch with Rebecca almost constantly and any little bits of news, good or bad, she imparted.

Rebecca listened, questioned, wondered, and cried, but never once blamed Molly. Never once asked why she'd been so stupid to let him go. Why she'd let such a precious cargo go and do something so risky. Instead she shared her worries, grief and pain... and hope. Knowing whatever she was feeing Molly was feeling it too.

The joy when the call came in with the news they had all hoped for, was beyond words. When the important call came Molly took it alone in her small cabin, the one she'd been almost confined to by friends and authorities, aware of her desperate need to go out with the search team. Advised by all that she'd be more use at home, waiting, and when the call finally came in she was glad she was. It meant that within minutes of her knowing Rebecca knew too. She was able to offer relief and comfort finally with the good news. She left it up to Rebecca to tell everyone else, and from that moment the shouty voice messages from Charles stopped.

The news was good, and that was all that mattered. Sam had been found after six hours or so out there with the rest of the group. Most of them had injuries, and getting help had been delayed. It was mainly a collection of broken bones, cuts and bruises, but all were alive... cold but alive. They group were instantly transferred to the hospital and Molly made her way there as fast as she could. And here she sat by his bedside waiting to see if he woke up from the trauma and pain killer induced sleep he'd deeply fallen into.

She watched him. His soft brown curls, which he used to hate, fanned out on the pillow. Those curls were chopped off regularly when he was younger, she'd known him to complain that they made him look like a baby. However he soon learnt as he got older, his soft expressive brown eyes and the tender curls on his head were magnets for the ladies, and he was never without admiring glances. It startled her as she watched him, just how like Charles he was, and how she missed seeing his face still after all these years!

He'd been lucky she knew that. They all had been lucky. He had a complicated fracture to his leg, but no surgery was necessary. A heavy cast protecting the injured bones. She looked closer and saw he had a few cuts to his face, and frost nip to his fingers and cheeks, which over the next few days, she knew, would hurt, but no permanent damage would occur. He was, she was ever so thankful, going to be ok.

"Molly?" He asked drowsily as he took her in and saw the tears on her face. "Hello."

She beamed a watery grin at him.

"Hello. You nutter." She smiled gratefully back at him. Standing over him so he could see without too much effort. Stroking his curls.

"I'm sorry." He said as his eyes filled with tears too.

"You've no need to say sorry." She brushed her fingers in his hair like she had done many times before, in another life when he was her little Sammy.

They smiled at each other both realising how lucky they had been.

"What is it about you James' men and your bloody legs?" She joked pointing to his cast on his leg. "It had to be your right one as well!"

"I know. Think it's a family tradition." Sam laughed back. Then added shyly. "I spoke to Mum when I got here... and Dad... for a minute. Going to need to call them again."

"That's good." She said. "I'll get you a phone in a minute, and you can all them again. Bet they were bloody please to hear your voice." She added as she sat down in an attempt to relax.

"Yeah." He nodded pulling himself up into a better position. "Even Dad sounded happy!"

She only nodded. He didn't need to know just how hard this had been for them all. Molly again felt the guilt. Silence hung and Sam chose to break it.

"It wasn't your fault you know?" He said quietly.

She raised her eyes at him. Not believing him.

"I shouldn't have let you go."

"Don't be stupid Molly. It could have happened to anyone at any time. I don't blame you." He ended softly.

She stood up and started to unpack some clothes she'd gathered for him. She couldn't look at him.

"Yeah...well. Thank you." Then added. "Pity your Dad don't think like that."

Sam laughed.

"Take it he's called you then?" He asked. "Was he all shouty? He was pretty mad at me to start with. What he say to you?" He rattled off the questions.

Molly giggled.

"Been too much of a coward to speak to him." She scrunched her nose in a confession. "Let him go to voice mail! Every time!"

"Ouch." Sam laughed then remembered his pain and winced. "Ouch." He said again but with more meaning. "He won't like that!"

She leaned over and kissed him, nodding.

"I'm gonna go. Let you rest. I'll be in tomorrow though, but later, I've a few things to sort out about Rob's accommodation and that. Plus, I want to say thank you to the rescue teams." She blushed at her last words.

Sam chuckled as he saw her flush.

"Say thanks from me too. Especially to George!" Then after a pause he added. "He's quite fond of you Molly I think? He spent a lot of time talking about you in the helicopter on the way back."

She blushed even deeper.

"He's a friend that's all. Treated him once or twice when he's been injured." She defended herself.

She then turned to walk away hearing Sam shout down the ward.

"Yeah whatever Molly! Whatever!"

She fell into the sofa exhausted, the past few days had drained her. Knowing Sam now was safe and out of danger meant her mind and body could start to relax and turn off. Yet still there were doubts, images, nightmares, about what could have been. What could have happened.

She had no time to dwell though on her dark thoughts, she heard a soft knock at her door. He was stood there. Unsure of his welcome. Wrapped up against the cold, but still she could she his face. He then gained courage and grinned at her and held a bottle of wine up as way of explanation.

She smiled at him as she invited him in. The way her stomach did a funny flip she knew she was on dangerous ground.

"Thought we'd celebrate." George said and he slipped out of his ski coat. "That and you can keep telling me just how amazing I was in the rescue effort."

She laughed and watch at how he was smiling at her. She had so much to be grateful to this man for. To him and his team.

As she reached for the glasses it hit her that she actually felt happy. Happy Sam was safe, happy George was here. Happy that it all worked out well, and then the events, the emotions of the days hit her and as she turned and looked at him she sobbed... and sobbed.

George rushed over to her and held her. Said calming words to her and never letting her go. He supported her when she thought she couldn't hold herself up. He counselled her when she blamed everything that had happened on her own shoulders, and he listened to her as she poured forth all the guilt and worry she'd ever had. He was there and she needed him. A good friend that saw her vulnerable, and stayed to make her strong. She sat in his solid, comforting arms all night, and enjoyed it.

She woke the next morning. Still fully dressed with sore gritty eyes, and a smile on her face. Somehow during the night she had laid down next to him and had stayed there. Hours later she'd woken up in his arms. Breathed in his warm, active smell, and enjoyed it. It had been a long time since she'd been this close to anyone. A long time since anyone had held her, and it felt nice. She tried not to move. Tried to take a moment to sort out her confused mind. She hadn't sort out his friendship but she had it, and after last night she felt as though they had stepped over the friendship line, and beyond.

George had been around the complex almost as long as she had been. He was a pilot in the search and rescue service the mountain resorts used. With lots of ranges, lots of tourists they were frequently used, especially by the guests staying at Molly's resort. She had initially come into contact with him on a job. A set of guests had gone off the trail, one had twisted a limb and he was drafted in to help. She was taken along as the medic support necessary on these trips.

They hit it off straight away. His passion for his home country, his knowledge of the beauty and his wicked sense of humour, all mixed in with a great big dollop of tall rugged good looks, and blonde hair, had Molly instantly pleased. She wasn't seeking romance. She was till to bruised for that, but she found she was seeking a friend and that's what they became. That's all she had allowed them to become, until last night when he held her, and secreted the odd kiss or two into her hair, as he did. That's when she knew that friendship line had been crossed.

"Morning Mols." He said before she'd had time to work it all out. His New Zealand twang made the way he said her name exciting. "How you doing this morning?"

He sat up and stretch while waiting for her answer. Perfectly at ease with her, with them, and with his top riding up to show off his tanned and toned stomach.

"Mmmmm. Bit embarrassed about last night." She said, try not to look at his toned abbs. "But good I guess."

He grinned at her. Then stood up and reached for his coat. Obviously getting ready to leave.

"Don't be. Always a good shoulder to cry on I am." Then he dipped his head down and kissed her cheek. "Got to get going though. Early shift. Talk later yeah?"

And with that he was gone. She felt a bit of a loss, yet appreciated there had been no need to sit and analyse last night or what it meant to either of them. He was too easy going for anything heavy. He'd told her he'd been hurt before, and wasn't too keen on falling in love ever again. When he first told her this it made her feel safe, comfortable. The little flirtation they had had acceptable, but now she was unsure. That good bye kiss said far more than they had ever said.

Right up until the moment she saw him she had doubts. She knew the plans. Knew it was Rob meant to be flying out to see Sam, but she still had doubts. Doubts that Charles would turn up instead, and when, if he did how would she cope. Her doubts were increased especially after the last frantic phone call from Rebecca, full of apologies, explaining that Charles was finding it difficult to accept Rob going out instead of him. That he was wanting to travel out instead. Saw it as his duty, and may upset all their plans.

She had been spending nearly all her free time with Sam, his main source of company. True, a few of his new friends drifted in to visit, but it was Molly who was 'it' until someone from home arrived. When the day finally came for his flight to land Molly was nervous, and too busy with work to meet him at the airport. He hadn't expected it anyway, and so it was almost a whole day later that she had the courage to turn up again at Sam's bedside.

She entered the ward with confidence, but each step she took saw that brazenness she'd mastered over the years disappear. As she entered the ward she saw Sam. Happy, laughing, taking and sitting out of his bed. His UK visitor right by his side animated and engaging, just as she remembered.

She hadn't seen him for years and she hesitated, but then he turned and saw her. She felt so unsure of her welcome from him. He soon put an end to her doubts.

"Ah Molly. Hello." He stood and offered his hand out to her in friendship. "So good to see you again."

"Hello." She meekly smiled and peaked around to see Sam smiling at her.

She felt she needed to say more, to apologise, and she felt awkward. However they both knew they were here for Sam, and so were polite, kind, and friendly towards each other.

She was amazed by the level of forgiveness he offered her and accepted from her, as she apologised for not looking after Sam as she should have, as Charles had accused her of. He was kind though, no anger was evident, and he assured her Rebecca had no anger or blame either. He suggested that it was the shock that allowed tempers to rise, but that had passed. All was now well and Molly was grateful.

The following two weeks of his stay passed by quickly. They saw each other every day and learned to enjoyed each other's company. They laughed, joked and saw how each day made Sam stronger and soon he was fit enough to fly home.

"I going to miss you Molly." Sam said as she kissed him good bye at the airport. "Keep in touch. Please."

"Of course I will." Her eyes filled with tears. "Call and let me know when you're home."

"Come and see me?" He asked. "When you're home?"

She nodded as she looked over his shoulder to check that was acceptable.

"Can't keep me away Scamp." She joked. "Need to see if you get off those bleeding crutches."

She had several more months left in New Zealand before her long holiday was due, and already she knew that she'd spend some of it visiting Sam, as their time together had been fun. All of them had enjoyed being in each other's company again. Remembering what it had once felt like.

During those weeks she had even introduced George to them both. Initially as someone who was involved in Sam's rescue, and then as a friend. He was graciously accepted by both of them, and although nothing was said they perhaps understood that he was becoming more to Molly than just a good friend. Still neither commented on it, both knew they had no right to interfere in her life, and she respected them for that.

Time passed quickly and with one more final hug and an awkward kiss to them both, they were gone.

She watched to the very end as Sam and Rob disappeared through the departure gates Molly turned away, and walked back to her car. Feeling the loss of them already. Saying good bye to Sam and Rob, his step dad, people she had enjoyed being with immensely. Happy that it had been him that had come across and not Charles. Happy that Sam had such a positive guy in his life, and Rebecca had such a pleasant husband.

Her head snapped up though when she heard his voice and a smile spread across her face.

"Rob and Sam get off ok?" George asked and she nodded her reply.

"Good. I err... thought you might need a hug." George said bashfully and offered his arms out to her.

Molly had no hesitation, she walked into them instantly. Suddenly it seemed just the right thing for her to do. The right thing because for the first time in a long time she was slowly starting to let another good guy into her world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Lizard**

**Chapter 6**

"What you're gonna do it for another year Mol?" Her mother asked.

"Yeah. I like it out there." She defended herself. "It's good for me."

"I know love. It's just I thought...?" Belinda stalled her words.

"What?" Molly asked.

"Well we hardly get to see you." She attempted. "We miss you."

"And...?" Moly knew there was more.

"Well….just thought, you know. Now everyone knows where you are and that... well you don't have to run anymore." Her voice dipped quietly at the end, frightened at her admission.

"I ain't running Mum. Not anymore. I love it out there. It's my life I guess." She explained. "Well for now anyway."

All through the conversation Bella had stayed quiet, picking at her nails, but now she let out a loud snort.

"What? You got summit to say then Bells?" Molly snapped turning to her. Their sisterly relationship hadn't fully recovered since their last mis-understanding.

"Oh yeah I have." Bella relished the attention on her. "You telling us you're staying on another year like, and it hasn't got anything to do with this fella you've been calling since you got back?" Bella finished with a flourish.

Molly was furious. She'd wanted to keep him quiet; it was early days. Hadn't mentioned him at all. Besides she didn't think at her age she needed to explain anything.

"What's that?" Belinda asked instantly. "You got a new fella Mols?" She smiled at her daughter encouragingly.

"No...Well yeah...Well it's early days and that." She explained.

Saddened by the happiness and eagerness on her Mum's face for more information. Information she was not willing to give. "We're just kind of friends." She mumbled out. "That's all."

Belinda let the subject drop. She didn't want to make Molly's time home uncomfortable. All too aware of how far she ran last time. Instead she made a pact with herself to watch her daughter more closely for any clues about the mysterious fella.

Molly hoped that was the end of the subject, and was surprised and pleased her mother didn't pursue it any further. She wouldn't have known what to say about him, about them. They were unconventional. Putting what they had into words was hard.

Over that past few months she'd been taking things really slow with George. They remained close, and the attraction was obviously there, but they took it one step at a time. She blushed though, as she remembered, although that was strictly true for the emotional side of things, it wasn't true where the physical side was concerned. Where their feelings here were involved things had accelerated faster than she had expected.

They both had been hurt in the past. They both had trust issues, and were slow and cautious about getting into anything too deep, too soon. They were sensible with their hearts, but the physical side of their attraction was something they couldn't stop. Embarrassingly they found once they started, they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Molly had found a release for three years of pent up emotion, as apparently George had too! Plus she was having fun, something that had been missing from her life for such a long time!

Her months holiday however sadly interrupted their sexual discovery of each other, and she found it interesting to learn that she missed him. She missed the closeness they shared in bed. She missed the stuff they got up to when alone, and that very satisfied feeling he gave her time and time again. She was in no doubt that she was his booty call, and he was very much hers. She wasn't ashamed of it, or upset by it, for now it was all about the sex. Maybe later, she imagined it would turn into something deeper, but for now it was just fun. And so because of that she hadn't mentioned him to her family, or even suggested he came home with her. She'd kept quiet and had intended her relationship to remain a secret, but Bella had apparently other ideas.

"I hear you." Bella went on taunting her. "Talking to him in the middle of the night." Bella said smugly. "When you think we're all asleep."

"Oh come on Mols. Tell us." Belinda gave in and asked. Her hand tucked under her chin in anticipation as she sat opposite her daughter, waiting.

She was to be disappointed though.

"Honestly Mum." Molly squirmed and threw daggers at Bella.

She'd expected some intrusion to her privacy now her younger sister had moved back home again, but she hadn't expected no privacy at all.

She looked at their hopeful faces, and knew she was going to disappoint.

"Just leave it Mum. Yeah?" Molly asked and flew up the stairs to pull on her running gear. Her way of escaping it all... running always had been.

"He's doing ok then?" Molly asked as she helped carry the dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Rebeca placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Taking in her worried face.

"He's fine. Molly...absolutely fine."

It had been a cosy evening meal in. Just Rebecca, Rob and Sam. The first time they had all been together in a long while, and the first time since the accident.

"Back on track with his studies. Physio for his leg is going well. He'll be playing sport again soon. All back to normal." Rebecca paused with her report. "We never blamed you. You do know that don't you?"

Molly smiled. Grateful to hear it.

"Thanks. I know." Molly said. "But Charles did. Didn't he? Thought it was all my fault." She darkly added.

Even after all these months it still hurt her to know he thought so little of her, that he'd believe she would ever put his son in any danger.

Rebecca was initially shocked at Molly mentioning his name first. Openly talking about him, she saw how hard that was for her. She took in Molly's worried face and broke the tension with a laugh, and it did the trick and was infectious. Molly soon laughed too.

"You know what he's like!" Rebecca joked. "Loves a good shout. You know he lives his life to have a good shout every now and then."

Molly's laughing instantly stopped.

"I used to know him. I thought I did... then he became a stranger to me." She looked down sadly as Rebecca's words settled in. "Don't think I must have ever really known him. Not like you did. Not like you still do."

Rebecca moved over to her sad friend.

"Of course you did Molly You loved him. He loved you." Then she took a chance. "I know you don't want to, or need to hear this, but he went through hell after you left. To get better."

Molly's eyes shot up and she pulled away, feeling betrayed, that Rebecca was championing him. Rebecca held on to her arm gently stopping her.

"Listen Molly someone has to say it. He messed up. He hurt you. We all know that." She sighed. "You can't forgive him ... I get that... we all do... but maybe you should listen to him? Let him explain."

Those tears that always fell just for Charles, and what he had done to them, threatened to fall again.

"What good will that do?" Molly defiantly replied. "Why should I? He hurt me."

Rebecca shrugged her shoulders and looked squarely at her.

"Hell Molly. I don't know!" Rebecca started to list the reasons too easily on her fingers. "Maybe to let you move on? It may help to hear what he has to say about it all. It may help to hear him say sorry to you." Then her final and most compelling reason was. "Then maybe you both can start to let someone else in." She simply said. "You can't be alone forever."

The night ended soon after that. It had become strained and false, and Molly regretted that. The long lonely drive home was silent. No music, no talk radio, just Molly and her thoughts. She mulled over it all.

Maybe Rebecca was right she argued with herself. Maybe everyone all these years were right, she considered. Maybe she did just need to hear him out. Not to forgive, but to close the door once and for all. To start working on a new future. The one she deserved, the one without him.

Thinking about him recently didn't hurt like it used to, and she found she did it more and more often these days. He'd started to seep into her consciousness again.

Recently she discovered new bits about his life, even that very evening with Sam and Rebecca they'd allowed small tit bits of information to leak out to her ears, watching her reaction all the time. Not wanting to scare her away. Knowing where Molly and Charles were concerned they had no right to interfere, but, as both were part of their lives the topics of each other's couldn't be ignored for ever.

It was Margaret though who filled her in with the most details about his life. Delighted in seeing Molly again, her happiness and rose tinted glasses of the past made her tongue run away from her. And so his mother talked once again of how proud she was of her son. He now had new job, a new direction, and as she happily put it, a return of the old Charles that had once been. He was even moving house, closer to his job, and closer to having some type of life again. The sadness in her voice just evident as she knew that Charles was still lonely after Molly.

"He's better." Margaret simply said. "Whatever was wrong. Whatever he went through, he's come out the other side."

Molly just smiled and answered a simple reply, but it wasn't enough for Margaret. She went one.

"I don't think we had any idea how broken he was!"

This startled her, because out of all of them she had. She did know how broken he was. Out of all of them she'd been the one to try, and out of all of them she was the one he'd hurt the most, and the only one who still couldn't forgive him.

She thought she'd cut him out of her life, but she was wrong. She now realised that over the past year Charles had slowly started to make his way back into her life, however minutely, and she believed finally she honestly didn't mind.

She'd kept in touch with Gerard from the charity, and due to the monthly newsletters he sent her, she had heard of his retirement and Charles' new position. Mulling over his welcoming letter, and the picture that accompanied it, she'd read with interest about the new schemes he was introducing, the ability to help more, and she was impressed. Magnanimously remembering he always did have drive, passion and a kind heart. Sensing again, through his words, a fire inside of him that had sadly once been lost.

She was unsure though if he knew about her in his life. That the generic wide e-mail list, that he had taken over after Gerard's retirement, actually went to her in box too. It made her smile that for years she'd tried to stay hidden from him, and even without the Sam situation, her contact details were right under his nose for the last year, most probably without him ever realising.

Charles had started running again. Seriously running. Something else he loved, that he had given up on. The boar trap on top of another significant leg injury, alongside his mental health, had taken away the fun of it, but now he was ready to start again. Running in the beginning though had brought back many sad memories. It had been something him and Molly used to love doing, together. It was their thing, the thing they did to let all their worries go, their way of dealing with the stress of it all. It was another thing, during his therapy, he discovered made them special as a couple, their enjoyment in just being them. Their ability to help one another through anything, or so he thought. Never before, and never since had he found anyone else who he had enjoyed running with. They had matched each other perfectly. He speeded her up, she slowed him down, meaning they both got the maximin effort and the maximin fun out of it all.

Yet now, finally he felt good enough, strong enough about his life to start running again. Things were now starting to feel right again in Charles' life. His new job was challenging him, his new home was keeping him busy, and physically and emotionally he started to feel strong again.

Things were changing. He found he often woke up on mornings now with a smile, with an enthusiasm that he thought he'd lost forever. The charity work and the people he helped meant so much to him, spurred him on. Made him want to try harder once more, and today was to be a test of that new found enthusiasm, as well as a test on other fronts too.

He'd arranged an open day at the charity. An idea he had about inviting all the volunteers, investors, and donors to the centre, as well as those who worked and lived in the area. To throw open the doors, to show the benefit they gave, and to showcase the work they were doing for this group of vulnerable people.

Hours later he stepped into the hall. His day had been spent talking and meeting various different types of visitors and people. Enjoying himself. Taking on a challenge once more. However, throughout the day there was one person he had looked out for more than anyone. Someone important. Someone he hoped would visit, someone he hadn't known was involved with the charity until late last night when he did one final scan over the invitee list.

It startled him at first and then he let out a knowing chuckle. Guessing somehow, in some way, his dearly missed father had something to do with it. For there, hiding amongst all the other names involved with the charity, there was her name... Molly Dawes... his Molly's name hiding there in the vast email address list. He'd of course checked and double checked once his amazement had quelled, but he knew it was her. And so from the moment he'd convinced himself that it was his Molly Dawes, he'd waited hopefully, nervously and excitedly to see if she turned up.

Her time home was running out. It usually went too fast for her, but this time she felt her four weeks at home went just about fast enough. She found she was looking forward to going back this time a little more than in previous years. She wasn't a fool; she totally understood the reason why. Simply George was that reason why. Uncomplicated, good looking and great in bed George.

They'd kept in touch with each other almost daily during her leave. He'd stayed out there, he still had work and family commitments to attend to, plus neither of them had considered he come with her, that wasn't the stage they were at. And so they would wait until she came back, and instead spoke every day. Friendly, happy, chatter, and she noted she missed his company, but she was also very honest with herself knowing she missed the sex too.

So as the days ticked by she started to plan her return back to her job, and to George. It was more than once noted by her family that she often had a smile on her face more frequently than previously known. At this she just increased her smiled, but offered no reply, no fuel for their fires of speculation.

So as she readied herself to return, she ticked off the tasks she still had to do.

This final task though strangely was the most important one. It was something she had done very frequently in her old life, and now it was something she found she did out of tradition in her new life, rather than because of need that had once existed.

The first time she'd entered the shop, all those years ago she had been scared and amazed. Eventually she had, and still did, loved the shop. The colours of the pods, the sleekness of the displays, the gentle quietness of it all compared to the hustle of the busy street outside. It had once been a place she had felt out of place in, and had wanted to run as soon as she had entered. However she didn't, as it was somewhere she had once visited out of utter love and devotion. Realising that his request to her was his first step at showing her a new world, his world, and that he wanted her to be part of it, and so she had bravely continued on.

She still hated coffee. Knew she always would, but this shop with it various flavours, styles and varieties drew her in each and every time. Just being here reminded her of him, of them, and she didn't mind. No matter what life had thrown at them she'd always made sure his Rosabya supply was plentiful, whether he was home or abroad. It was just one of the many special things that had made Charles...Charles, and she didn't want that ever taken away.

Sometimes, since she left him, she'd come and been lucky, the assistant not catching her eye, and not skilfully forcing Molly to buy a certain pack of the capsules. Just allowing her instead to browse. Yet other times she was not so lucky, and today was one of those days. As soon as she entered the shop the assistant homed in on her, and quickly Molly found she had bought 6 of his beloved coffee pods.

The assistant was efficient and smiled nicely as she placed them into a bag, thinking they were a treat for her. Yet Molly just smiled back and never let on their true destination. That these pods, just like all those other times she had left the shop with the unusable purchase, the local food bank was to be the lucky recipient of the treat.

"That our last packet of those. Enjoy." The smiling assistant told Molly. "We've discontinued that line now. Won't be getting any more in."

"What the Rosabya?" Molly asked. "What they doing that for?" She questioned.

"Don't know Madam. Guess it's to make way for a new line." As she finished off the transaction she turned effectively dismissing Molly.

She stood still for a few minutes longer holding the tube of capsules in her hand. Touching them with a degree of reverence. Knowing that this time, just this once, for old times' sake she wouldn't give them away. Then she turned without thinking, without any planned direction, out of the shop.

Everyone praised him. The day had been a success, and Charles couldn't have been anything but pleased with how it all had gone. Still the success was tinged with disappointment. Molly hadn't shown up. He'd hoped, he'd half prayed, but she hadn't shown. Logically he knew why.

He ran up the steps of the tube station, and quickly pushed open the shop door. This place was still his guilty pleasure, and it felt reverend almost to be in it. Something of his old life he had still held onto. He smiled as he remembered that this was the place where his Molly had bought him his first ever gift. Throughout it all, his moves, his life changes, he'd still kept that worn frayed piece of red ribbon in the side pocket of his wallet. It had been there since day one and he'd never ever let it go. It reminded him of their beginning, happier times, and not their end.

"I'm sorry Sir. That line has been discontinued." The assistant politely replied to his query.

"Yeah. I know." He smiled his perfect smile back at her. "Just hoped you'd still have some stock left." He dipped his voice as though he was conspiring with her.

"I'm sorry Sir. No." She answered, not totally immune to his good looks, she went on. "As a matter of fact we just sold the last packet of capsules."

Charles raised his eyebrows and turned his head in the direction of the door, where the assistant was bidding her head towards.

His gut gave a strange lurch as he watch a female figure walk away. A figure and a stance he knew well. She was wrapped up against the autumnal weather, a woolly hat placed on her head, but her long hair still flowed down her back and shone in the sunshine.

She kept on walking, oblivious to him. Oblivious he'd left the shop and was following her.

Charles was on automatic pilot. He'd waited so long to see her again, to be close to her, and here she was, his Molly yards ahead of him on a busy London street.

This time he wasn't going to let her go. He increased his pace to catch up with her. This was finally his chance to speak to Molly.

She heard her name and instantly knew. The voice, one she hadn't heard for such a long time, but would never forget. She wasn't imagining it; she knew instantly that the moment she had avoided for nearly three years was here.

She turned and immediately saw him and felt him. That ability she had, they once had, to know each other no matter what, still ever present. Years ago, so secure in their love, they confessed that even in a crowded room they knew of each other's presence.

She bit her lip, stopping her words coming out. Yet she bravely turned her head up towards him. Pleased that the old habit held in a gasp as she looked into his chocolate brown eyes once more. His face was older, as she knew hers was, but it was still no less perfect than it had always been. It was how it always had been. The one exception being that the last time she had really seen him so close he'd been expressionless, with dead dull eyes. Now as she looked on him, she noticed they glistened.

"Hello." Was all he said and let out a very nervous half laugh. He stood straight and full of anxiety.

"Hello." She only offered back.

Over the years scenarios had floated around her head as to what to say to him if she ever saw him again. Time must have healed her, because all she had in her was that one simple greeting to give him.

"You..." He stuttered. Then faltered, almost hoping she would fill in his gaps.

She knew that was what he was expecting. Yet she didn't. She wasn't that woman anymore. She wasn't his woman any more. No more would she save him, she had tried to do so once, but he had turned his back on her, and betrayed her. He didn't deserve a second chance. So instead she just stood there.

He began again.

"You look..." He nodded his head at her as he took her in.

His heart ached to reach out and touch her. His body managed a slight move to do so, and he sadly watched her minutely step back.

"What I mean...well how are you Molly?" He eventually asked. "It's good to see you."

"Good. Thank you and you?" She replied, devoid of emotion.

Her answers stopped any flights of fancy he had that they would ever be anything to each other again. She was cold and polite. A million miles away from the woman who used to be his wife, from the woman he still loved.

"Erm... good." He managed to reply. Then his courage returned. "Look Molly. I'm sorry. So very sorry."

She knew it was coming. She recognised the signs. When he had something to say, something hard his face at times took on a look like someone had just kicked his puppy, and here he was standing in front of her with just that look.

She could have accepted it and left. She could have just walked away, but some sadistic part of her finally wanted to pick at the scab that had hardened over her wounded heart.

"What exactly you sorry for Charles?" She asked too loudly for the busy London street. "For shutting me out? For shagging her? Or maybe for tearing me a new arse hole over Sam's accident?" She squared herself in front of him.

He felt like he'd been punched. He'd hadn't expected the calm anger that he heard. His mind raced as he felt as though he didn't know this woman standing in front of him anymore. He'd expected the Molly from old, expected some hot anger, some portion of the blame, and foolishly maybe even some small amount of forgiveness, but he hadn't expected her cold directness.

"I..." He attempted. Confused by who she now was. Unable to see how he could improve the situation.

She held up her hand to stop him.

"Don't. I don't need to hear it. I was there for you. Tried to help you." She drew in a breath. "You didn't want my help. You didn't want me." She had more to say but couldn't say it.

She knew she had to leave and before he could say any more she said;

"Good bye Charles." And went to march herself away from him.

He had no excuse. No explanations. He'd wronged her and that was that, but still he reached out. His fingers only just making contact with hers.

She felt the slightest of brush, the minimalist of contact ever, but it still was enough to stop her. The thrill in those few seconds lighted her up in a way she had forgotten, and so she stopped. Stopped herself from feeling anymore, and stopped herself from walking away.

He'd never cried. Not once in all their year's together, not even when Elvis had died. Not even when she told him she was leaving him. He used to say that he couldn't cry, never had, never would. Yet as she turned she saw the tears on his face. The wetness he hastily tried to remove, fearing it was a sign of weakness still.

His head held straight and tight on his body. He anticipated her to leave, expected her to run, and when she hadn't it had confused him even more.

"Molly." He tried to say but the words didn't come out right. Sobs, small and gentle came instead.

She saw how close he was to emotionally falling apart. She took pity on him, internally laughing that he'd been right all those years ago, she really was 'Queen of the lost Cause'. She couldn't watch him suffer, she had to offer him some form of succour.

She stepped forward to him and as her arm gently touched his, he drew in a huge breath.

"I'm sorry Molly. Sorry for everything. Us, Elvis, Georgie, Sam. For everything. Sorrier than you'll ever know."

She worked now on automatic pilot. The years of loving him, of still loving him, played out between them without a conscious thought. Her arms encircled him; her body pressed into his as she held him. He responded in kind and for a moment, minutes, hours they both knew not for how long, they stayed like that.

All they knew that at last they finally held each other once again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Lizard**

**Chapter 7**

"I missed this." He said as he pulled her in tighter. "So much."

How right it all now felt.

She smiled as he did his thing, the thing that made him... him. He slowly brought her hands to his lips and peppered kisses across them, never once taking his intense eyes from hers. That was his thing, the way they spoke to each other without words, just looks.

They lay naked and tangled in bed sheets, both coming down from the ecstasy of the past couple of hours. There had been little talking to get them to this point, just pure emotion and desire.

"I've waited too long a time to have you again." He continued. "It's felt like a life time I reckon.'

Molly giggled. Happy. She'd missed him too.

"Well I hope it was worth the wait?" She asked half serious, still doubting herself. She still had doubts. The whole Georgie situation did that to her.

"What do you bloody think woman?" He replied as he flipped her over again. His weight delightfully pinning her down, his lips crushing into hers as he shifted to take her once again.

Molly willingly let him. It felt so right, and he was right, it had been too long since they had been together. She delighted in being all consumed by him again.

It was totally unexpected. At first when she had seen him standing there she had been utterly surprised, and a little scared. She'd never dreamt, and had never expected, to see him standing there amongst such a setting. People rushing past them as they both stood foolishly staring at one another for a while. Then she did something brave and made the first move, she moved in for a hug. Checking he was real, that he was there. The return of her hug showed her he was very much there, and he was very much there for her.

As they held each other they slowly, once again, melted into each other. Something familiar and comfortable. The passion between them rose up quickly, and they acted it out in full view of the passers-by. Both unashamed, unembarrassed, knowing that the time for talking came later.

Accepting him readily, so publicly, was a change to the dynamics of them. This was different. This was new. Something, Molly acknowledge, was happening to her, to them. For so long after Charles and her had failed she had turned away from letting anyone back in. Yet after today, this moment, she knew things were slowly turning. She'd never expected that she'd be here again, getting comfort, hope, feelings from someone else, but she knew she was. It was now time to take a chance.

She lay there held in his arms, waking slowly up after the second round sex induced coma they had both happily fallen into. Their naked, sticky bodies pressed up close to one another, preserved from the early morning chill by the sheets from his bed. She felt protected and it surprised her at just how right it all felt. To be back here again in his arms.

"We gonna have to talk about this aren't we?" She said softly as she nibble away at his forearm.

She knew he was awake too. His body was still, like hers, and like her they both were frightened to let go of the perfect moment between them with an interruption of words.

"Yes. I guess so. Tell me one thing though?" He asked. "Before we talk. Did you miss me?"

She lifted her head off the pillow and turned to face him lying on her side. Staring into his eyes. Eyes that now hid nothing from her.

"Yeah I did." She smiled out. "I really did."

"I missed you too Molly." He shifted so he now lay on his side and gazed at her.

She stayed quiet and expected him to begin.

He knew that was only right.

He knew this talk was coming from the moment he saw her walk through the arrivals gate at the airport. Looking tired, deep in thought and beautiful. George thought she'd never looked more beautiful at that moment, where she was totally unaware of his eyes on her. Never expecting him to turn up at the airport to meet her, she was unaware of his gaze, and he drank her in.

George had watched her for moments before he stepped in front of her and saw the confusion, and then the eventually happiness on Molly's face, as she realised what he was doing there, what was happening.

He hoped she knew, as he beamed back at her that he hadn't done it on a whim. He'd taken a chance, very much aware that before she had gone home on her break they were casual, taking it slow. There were no promises, no strings and no expectations. Just sex. Yet when she was away George missed her more than he expected. Missed her more than he had missed anyone for such a long time, and so George took this risk and turned up unexpectedly at the airport to meet her. A risk because he was unsure how Molly would feel about it, about him, about them. It was a risk because George knew showing up there to meet her told them both that the thing they had between them was fast becoming something more than sex.

"I got to thinking about us when you were away. Well I just..." George started off. Shifting uncomfortable as he saw the start of a smirk on Molly's face. "Thought I'd come and pick you up."

"From the airport? All that way?" She asked. "Just to get me? Without me even telling you me flight details?"

"Yeah!" He challenge back. Fast aware that it may not have been his best idea.

"You took a risk mate." She smiled softly. "Might have been the wrong flight."

"It wasn't thought was it?" He answered back. "I wanted to see you Mols. Couldn't wait."

She remained silent and just half smiled at him as though she was thinking. They'd never been seen out in public before, not like that, as a couple, only as friends. It was a big step in a very definite direction.

He swallowed his pride, as he really thought Molly was fast becoming worth it.

"I'd hoped you'd be pleased." George said softly. "Thought the risk was worth taking."

She moved closer to him as he started to shift to sit up. His defences were rising.

"Don't." She said as he moved slightly away. "And yeah I was

pleased... really pleased."

A burn of scarlet flushed across his tanned face, accompanied by his killer smile. As she watched she felt a small but definitely noticeable flutter in her gut. An attraction that was more than physical for the man she shared this bed with.

He pulled her into his chest as he sat up. Her back pinned to his front as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Good." He kissed into her hair. "So it was ok?" Me coming like that?"

"Yeah." She replied. "It was ok."

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now I've a question I'd like to ask." His voice was low and wavered.

She tried to turn to look at him once again, but he held her gently but definitely still. He feared his loss of nerve if she faced him.

"Yeah. Alright." She said slowly. "Go on then."

"Well...I was wondering Molly...you know maybe, on your next day off you'd like to go somewhere? Do something?"

Her brow creased.

"What ya mean?" She asked. "Go somewhere? Where?"

"I don't know?" George's mind spun as he tried to back pedal. "Any where? You know, with me."

He felt the very moment she understood what he was asking. Her body tensed and spun around to finally look at him. He released his hold on her.

"What you mean like as in a date?" She asked. Her eyes wide and her look surprised, but her voice was kind and soft.

"Yes Mols. Like on a date." George replied. "Like in a proper date... with me."

He watched her gaze over his face, his lips. He watched her pull her lower lip adoringly in between her teeth. Wonder how this was so hard. Here she was for God's sake in his arms, naked. They'd had sex countless times, yet asking her out on a date was so hard.

"Well?" He asked. Hoping he didn't sound as though he was begging. "I know we've kind done it a bit the wrong way round and that, but what do you think? A date? With me?"

She leaned into him, feeling the tug in her gut and the fire starting again in between her legs. She knew her answer though long before her body did.

"I think it's a really good idea." She replied happily. "Yes. A date. Sounds perfect."

"Good." He replied happily. "You're a special lady Molly Dawes." And then he kissed her.

"So you saw her?" Margaret asked slowly for the second time just to confirm she'd understood what Charles had said. "Molly? Our Molly?"

"Yes Mother." He sighed and jumped up pacing around her kitchen, clutching on to his coffee cup for some grounding.

He'd debated whether or not to tell his mother about their meeting on Regent Street. Doubted whether as a grown man he should still be sharing his personal life with his mother in such detail. Yet he did. This was Molly after all. His Molly, their Molly, she belonged to them all, always would. Besides he needed to off load to someone who knew. Talk it all through with someone who'd understand.

"And?" His mother just stared at him with her hands held wide, eyebrows raised. Inviting him in to say more.

He paused.

He had to think just exactly how it had gone. He hadn't forgotten. Not a single moment. Every second was burned onto his mind. He'd gone through each and every detail, every word, every look, and touch a thousand times since, and still it made no sense. He remembered as she'd held him as he had broken down. Right there in the middle of the street, for all to see, and the feeling of being held by her again made him break a little bit more.

There had been no running, Molly hadn't run, and after while she had pulled away and gently suggested that they go somewhere to talk. That had surprised him. He thought he'd have to beg, plead with her for some of her time. He'd never expected her to offer it to him so readily. And so they ended up in a noisy pub, tucked away in a corner, both playing with, but not drinking, the two glasses of wine he'd ordered.

"Well what did you say?" His mother pecked on. "What did you say to her, to Molly, Charles?"

He stared at his mother blankly. He struggled to remember all his words; he knew he just said the important ones.

"I said sorry." Was all he could say to her.

And it was true. That's exactly what he had done. Repeatedly, again and again. He said sorry for each and every crime, but asked for no forgiveness. What he had done to her, to them, to her friendship with Georgie, her life, her job was unforgivable. He knew that, and he knew she knew that.

"And? Charles what did Molly say?" His mother persisted.

"She said very little." Charles replied. "She just listened."

"Listened?" His mother shot back amazed. "She just sat there and listened?"

In the hours, days, weeks that followed Charles had realised he had done all the talking. The confession, the explanation, the recovery all discussed. She had only sat and listened.

His confession had been lengthy. He knew he'd never get the opportunity again, and their need for a first drink soon slipped in to a need for a second, then a third. The time passed them by. He had so much to say. So much to explain, and he did.

"Did you tell her about your therapy, and that you're better now?" Margaret asked.

"I told her everything Mother. Everything." He had, and it had cost him a lot.

"And did she forgive you?" Margaret hopeful that the answer would have been yes.

"No." Charles crushed her dreams. "No she didn't. And I didn't ask her to."

"So what happens now? Are you seeing her again?" She slowly walked close to her son and rested gentle hands on his, fairly sure of the answer he'd give her.

Charles turned in to his mum and pulled her in for a very rare hug.

"No. She listened. I explained. There's no going back to what had. We both know that."

"And that's it?" His mother asked. "That's it. After all this time."

Charles slumped down on the kitchen chair next to her and held her hand. He knew it was hard for his mother to accept, that he'd had his only chance with Molly, and he'd said what needed to be said. She kindly gave him her time, though offered him no hope, no ongoing friendship, just merely wished him well, and then she left.

"Yes. That's it." He closed his eyes as the next words hurt however realistic they were. "It's time to let go of the past Mum. Time for us all to move on. I lost Molly, and I'm never getting her back."

She checked her appearance over for the final time. She was nervous. Really nervous. This was her third Christmas spent out in New Zealand, and by now she was well used to the routine, to the hardness of the day.

Christmas out in the resort was all about the guests. The heavily paying guests, and making their Christmas in this sunny place happy and memorable. For all of the day the staff madly busselled about, working hard to please the guests, hoping to satisfy them with food, drinks and entertainment. And every year it work, the guests had fun, and by evening time they were so satiated that the staff numbers were able to be reduced to a minimum. The guests became less demanding, and less needy, and this was when the free time was given to those who had worked the day.

Molly, this year was one of the lucky members who had the rest of the night off. Her pay back for working the last two Christmases straight. The past couple of years she had nothing to do with her festive free time, so working was the best option, both emotionally and financially. However this year was different. This year she had George to fill in her free time with.

They had been properly 'dating' now for the past few months. Together for all to see, and she liked it. He was kind attentive and fun, in and out of the bedroom. He held her hand as they walked down the street, he helped with the cooking of her meals, he listened to her moans. He was fast becoming someone she liked having around. It had also come as no surprise to any of their friends, everyone just accepted Molly and George, making it feel even more right.

Molly had long since stopped being George's booty call, and he had stopped being hers. He was simply now her boyfriend, she called him that, and she quite liked the fact that he was. He was fun, a good laugh, and most importantly of all someone who went some small way to wiping away all her past hurt. For someone who was so tough and rugged on the outside, he was a surprisingly gentle sensitive soul, and that made him all the more perfect for her.

Both Molly and George had taken big steps over the past months. Both letting each other in, both explaining who and what they were to each other. They understood what they had, and accepted it, though Molly held back that she had bumped into Charles the last time she was home, and how deeply it had affected her. There were still some secrets she wished to keep. Still a part of her heart unsure about all she had heard from him, and all he had said. Too frightened to revisit their meeting and what it meant to her, and so instead she locked it away and tried not to think about it.

Tonight though, Christmas night, was another big deal in their relationship. Tonight George was picking her up and he was taking her to his family's home to meet his parents. Molly was nervous. She'd only done meeting the parents thing once before, and she found she fell in love with them as much as she had fallen in love with their son Charles. Benny and Margaret had been welcoming and open with their hearts and home when she first had met them. Molly only hoped that George's parents were equally as nice.

He swept in the room and picked her up, kissing her as he did. He was a larger than life man and lover in all sense of the word.

"Happy Christmas Molly." He beamed out. "You ready?"

She giggled and he spun her round. She loved how happy he was all the time. A startling contrast to the stern moodiness of Charles towards the end of their relationship. George always appeared as though whenever they were together he was just delighted to be with her, and to Molly's bruised ego, the one that Charles and Georgie stamped over, it felt good.

"What if they don't like me?" She asked him once they had shared a long and festive kiss.

"Mols?" He stepped back and looked at her. "You're joking right? I mean... Don't worry" Then he turned to start walking out the door as he continued to leave. "They'll love you...". He kept on talking as he disappeared outside. "Because I love you!"

He was gone before she fully understood what had just happened. What he had just said. He'd said it so casually, so fleetingly she was unsure if he knew what he said, or even if he meant what he'd just said.

Love. He said he loved her!

That was a whole new ball bag. Something she hadn't been ready to hear, and certainly something she wasn't ready to say back.

And so this time Molly didn't run, instead she blindly followed him out to the car, allowed him to drive her to his parents, and ignored the whole conversation. It was best that way for now she felt.

"So what you getting your Mum for her birthday?" Charles asked Sam.

It was Rebecca's big 4 0 coming up, and everyone knew she was dreading it. She wanted no fuss, no party and no one to mention it. Ever.

Rebecca had always been touchy about her age. Five years older than Charles she's had to put up with the inevitable older woman comments throughout their marriage. And then when Charles had met and married Molly, who not only was a whole ten years younger than Rebecca, but also shared the same birth day, her age remained a touchy subject.

"I don't know." Sam said. Stomping his cold feet. "You know what

she's like."

Charles looked sadly at his son and knew that was probably about as much conversation they'd get from Sam. His attention now switched back to the football matches they had come to watch. A poor game on a cold and dark miserable January night. Still Charles didn't mind. Anything with Sam was a good time for him. His son's social life meaning the visits to see his old boring Dad were not high on the agenda. So Charles was at least pleased he still had the dangle of the football carrot to tempt Sam to visit him every now and then.

Christmas time had been quiet and restful Charles thought. He'd spent it with his mother, and switched off from his work. His old family home still magical, just as he remembered it. It was hard for his mum. The second year without Benny, but it was getting easier, and Charles enviously noted that even his Mother's Christmas social life was more involved than his.

Though on that front he knew he only had himself to blame. There had been the usual Christmas dos that this year he had to attend. The usual functions he'd dropped into for the sake of the Charity's good name. There was even, he notice, a little bit of friendship with his co-workers developing, but he didn't push it.

However he had this year for the first time in many reconnected with some old university friends, and had enjoyed it. They hadn't judged, but had listened to his story, one they had already known from the old boy's grapevine. None of them offered comment, just companionship. A few had known Molly. A few had known Rebecca. A few had attended both his weddings, but those that had each time had chosen Charles' side.

It was strange he noted to reconnect with old friends. Friends who knew so much about you, had so many stories about your life up to a point, and then nothing. It was almost refreshing that after many years of absence they could reconnect and start again.

He'd even had the odd meet up with an old girlfriend. Someone nearly 15 years ago he'd been briefly involved with. Someone he'd left behind once Rebecca caught his eye. To him there was nothing romantic about it. She was company, and he never sort her out. It was just nice. It was just the first dip of his toe back in the water of getting his life back after Molly.

She couldn't believe what he'd done. Never expected it.

It was her birthday week. Her big 3 0 and George had wanted to celebrate, and surprise her. He had done just that. As she stepped onto the aeroplane she couldn't quite believe his generously, or his ability to hide all the plans from her. He'd arranged a whole two weeks at home for both him and her. Two weeks to see her family again, and to introduce them to this man who she had talked more and more about, and was becoming more important in her life.

She accepted the gift with the kindness in which it was intended. She knew though he was falling head over heels in love with her, and the grandeur of the gift sat slightly uncomfortable with her. As she stepped aboard, on the sunny February day, she felt confused. Worried that once again she was letting a man make decisions, run her life. She'd once felt that way with Charles. That he was always the one in the lead where it came to their relationship, and she didn't want that to happen again.

George was taking bigger steps than her, pushing their relationship faster and harder than she wanted to allow, but she had just let him. She needed to see where it would go, could go. Where she could allow it to go. Once broken she hoped her heart wasn't always broken, and so appreciated the experimental feelings of it all.

"So?" He kissed her as he did up her seat belt. "Your Mum said we could stop with them, but I reckoned it was too cramped."

She nodded in confused agreement. Something she'd been doing a lot of since he'd turned up hours ago and surprised her with the tickets, and a departure time.

"I've booked us into an Air B 'n' B for the two weeks." He smiled. "Hope that's ok for you?"

"Yeah." She answered back. "That's good." The shell shock still with her about the trip meant that's all she could say.

"Oh." He continued as he settled himself in. "I've arranged to meet up with some of your friends too... hope that's ok?" Then he tapped his nose as she looked quizzically are him. "That's all I'm saying for now."

She puzzled just who he meant, but was too dazed to ask any more for now.

He knew they'd be in. She'd wanted the day to pass without anything special. So he expected she'd be home, with her family having a quiet evening. That's what she had wanted. Yet she'd been there for him, she was the mother to their child. He therefore felt he needed to mark her special day in some way. A thank you for being there.

He was surprised though as he jumped to the steps of hers and Rob's home to see the lights all on, and sounds of laughter floating out. It was obvious she was entertaining, but he did not worried. Most of their friends, hers and Rob's were once Charles and Rebecca's friends. They all still got on, and he knew there would be no awkwardness.

He rang the bell. Shifting her present and the champagne from one arm to another. Happy with his gifts. Sam had given him some tips as to what to buy her, and his mother further assisted. The cold February air started to nip at his fingers as he waited for his knock to be answered.

He drove over after work to see Rebecca for several reasons. Her birthday, was Molly's birthday too and it was never far from his mind all day. He wanted a distraction.

He'd never used to make a big deal about Rebecca's birthday when they were together. Although he knew she had always wanted him to. Whatever he did though it just wasn't good enough.

Yet with Molly for her birthdays he couldn't do enough, and she was always very grateful. He often planned weekends away, surprised gifts, flowers and always his undivided attention.

Well that was until the last birthday before he betrayed her. When he knew the final nails in the coffin of his marriage were set in place.

He was on tour, with Georgie. Perusing emotionally, another woman. Too caught up in his irrational belief that being with Georgie would right all the wrongs he'd made. And so all he'd managed to do that day was drop her a short impersonal text, no call, no gifts for her to open and not even a card waiting for her at home. He'd instead spent the day trying to ignore that date as best as he could, knowing that 1000s of miles away her heart would be breaking by his lack of thought, and lack of love.

"Dad! What are you doing here?" Sam asked really really surprised.

"Nice to see you too Son." Charles crinkled his brow and he walked in to the house. It was warm and inviting.

He'd always been made welcome here, but Sam was acting strangely.

"Yeah. Good to see you too... it's just..." Sam continued looking around.

Charles noticed that the dining room, closed off from him, had gone deathly silent. At that very moment Rob walked out of the dining room giving Charles an unsatisfactory peak at the dinner guests before the door was once again closed.

"Charles!" He said slightly louder than necessary. "We've... err... a few friends over."

"Ok!" Charles was unsure as to why everything felt uncomfortable suddenly. "I just popped in to give Rebecca's her present." He explained.

"I'll see she gets it." Rob said as he reached forward.

Charles creased his brow, and held on to them.

"Could I?" He stepped toward the dining room door to open it. At that very moment Rebecca appeared through it.

He went to wish her happy birthday, offer his congratulations but the words were robbed from his mouth. From behind her, as she opened the door further, he saw her.

"Hello Charles." Molly smiled at him. She looked nervous and shifted uncomfortably on the spot.

She looked beautiful, and happy and as though he had interrupted her fun.

He smiled stupidly back at her.

His mind unable to comprehend what she was doing there, whilst also knowing it was wonderful that she was.

"Molly? Happy..." Then he stopped.

Behind her a tall, muscular blond haired man stepped forward. His eyes darting around assessing the situation. His arm possessively making its way around Molly's shoulders.

"Hello." His New Zealand twang instantly recognisable as he stretched out his hand towards Charles. "I'm George." He said sweetly and obvious. "Molly's fella."


	8. Chapter 8

**Lizard**

**Chapter 8**

She ran around the park.

Alone.

Leaving George in bed. Sleeping off the effects of one of the most socially awkward nights she'd had for a long time.

Their birthday meal with Rebecca, Sam and Rob started well. Though to be honest Molly was unsure at one stage if it was for her benefit or George's. He'd certainly enjoyed lapping up the hero worshiping their hosts had thrown his way. His part in Sam's rescue elevated him to God like status in their eyes, and he knew it.

Then Charles had arrived. Politely he'd been asked to stay by Rebecca. No one expecting him to do so. The Charles she last knew wouldn't have dreamed of doing something like that. Yet he did. He stayed, and he stayed.

At first George, although knew Charles' name, was slow in putting the name to the stories Molly had told, but once he'd appreciated who Charles was from Molly's past it was very clear for all to see. From that point forward it became a giant dick waving competition between her ex-husband and her current beau, and Molly was most definitely the intended prize.

Both men told stories about her. Both men tried to claim her so to speak. It was a testosterone fuelled game of 'Molly Top Trumps'. She hated it; they both knew that, but it didn't stop them playing. George though non verbally claiming victory each and every time as his arms clung to her constantly throughout.

Eventually Molly put an end to the verbal sparring, and said their good nights. The taxi drive to their hotel for the evening was silent and fraught. Equally the tension remained in the hotel room. One look at Molly's sour face told George that his joke about a birthday shag was well off the mark! Molly was simply furious at him, and let him know. He didn't stay long to listen to her and stormed out after she'd subjected him to a tongue lashing of Molly Dawes proportion, and he didn't return until many hours later. She feigned sleep as he entered the room, and judging by the smell of his breath he'd been in the hotel bar consuming its delights. She was saved from any more anger as he passed out within minutes of climbing into the bed.

As she ran she mused. She wasn't just mad at George she was mad at Charles too. Angry that he no longer had the right to behave like that over her. Angry with his behaviour. She wasn't his anymore. He had seen to that when he slept with Georgie. When he stopped loving her.

As she ran she very much knew that after last night's behaviour she wasn't going to be anyone's anymore, never be. Whatever she had, whatever she wanted, it would always be on her terms. She wouldn't lose the Molly Dawes she had fought to become.

Seeing him though was a surprise. She'd never thought she'd see him again. Well not never never, but not for a while. The last time they had met she had seen how broken he was, and she offered him the chance. She offered him the chance to explain, to apologise, to help to put right some of the wrong he'd done to them, to her.

He talked, he taken the chance she'd given him. He talked a lot, and talked about everything, and she began in some tiny part to gain an understanding as to why it had all gone wrong.

How a large part of it was the PTSD, the detachment he felt from them. A lot too was down to his guilt, and how he couldn't share that with anyone.

She learnt also that of what went wrong was simply down to them as a couple. Their semi separate life styles. Their jobs taking them off in different directions, too many times, too often. They simply just had too little between them to save their marriage. He talked, and he told her their marriage was just too weak to survive it all, and so it inevitably crumbled. Together they weren't enough, they weren't strong enough to survive, and they didn't.

He'd talked, and she had just listened. She offered no opinion, no counter reason, and no pardon for it all, but there again he didn't ask her for it. It would seem he didn't need to hear her views, or her forgiveness. He used his time instead to explain and say sorry, as he was the one who in the main threw it all away.

As she watched him though she saw the Charles she used to know, and she saw a Charles she'd never met before. A vulnerable, considered, delicate man, who was slowly rebuilding everything that he had lost and had been destroyed by the past events.

She liked it. Found it refreshing how he wasn't in control of everything. How everything he said and did was no longer steeped in years of confidence and success. She felt him more accessible, and she felt more of his equal in a way she had ever felt before.

Their time together hadn't been long. Not nearly long enough to explain, talk, discuss what had happened, but it was enough. Enough for Molly to know that she still loved him. Always would. Yet not once during those hours together did Charles mention the world love. Not when he talked about them, or what they had. Not once did he tell her that he still loved her. Not once did he ask if she still loved him. Not once did she hear, what she secretly was waiting to hear…. that he still wanted her. That hurt her more than anything, and so she offered him nothing, because he asked for nothing. They parted with a brief hug and smiled, and moved on. She knew then all was lost.

It was that parting that had hurt her more than any of the previous ones they ever had had before. That parting was so cold and definite. So final, and she walked away believing that all that love between them had been lost. It had left him, along with all the bad memories he had tried so hard to overcome.

And so with this belief Molly had returned back to New Zealand and into George's arms. A man who was seeing her as a new start. A man who was asking her to give them a go. A man who let her know he was emotionally available for her. The total opposite to Charles, and so she started to let George in. Finally certain there was no more Charles and Molly to go back for.

Well that was until last night. Until Molly has witnessed Charles' territorial behaviour. When she had seen how badly Charles had behaved with George. Why would he behave so if he still didn't care? And it made her mad. Mad at the two warring men, but mad at herself. That despite it all Charles Benjamin James still, despite it all, had the ability to stir up her emotions up.

Her phone beeped and she expected it to be George requesting fluids and pain killers.

She stopped dead when she saw his name flash up. Opening the text with a degree of understandable hesitancy.

_**Sorry... and Happy Birthday….. for yesterday. C**_

That was all, but it was more than she had ever expected. More than she had allowed herself to hope. As she put her phone away and jogged back to the hotel she realised that was the first time in many years he'd wished her a happy birthday. It made her happy, yet she didn't feel the need, for now, to reply. She hadn't the strength.

"Head bad?" She asked as she loudly closed the hotel room door behind her.

George sat on the end of the bed. His head in his hands and looking very sorry for himself. He wasn't usually a drinker and last night efforts were taking effect.

"Yeah. Bloody sore." He looked at her apologetically. "Sorry."

Molly just stood looking at him. Half her heart feeling sorry for him and the other still mad. His behaviour last night was embarrassing.

"Sorry?" George tried again.

"What you sorry for?" She asked. "Getting pissed or for pissing me off."

He managed his killer smile despite the pain to his head.

"Both." He offered. Cocking his head and looking at her in a pleading type way.

She sighed. A lot of men in her life had been apologising of late. She'd accepted one apology already today, she now had to accept George's.

"Here." She smiled as she handed him a bottle of water and tablets. Running her fingers through his hair as though he were a little boy. "And you're forgiven!"

He took them, smiled back and asked.

"Forgiven?"

"Yeah." She placed a kiss on his head and then left for her shower.

"God you're an idiot." She told him loudly down the phone. "First time you've seen Molly in nearly five years, and you behave like that."

"Like what?" Charles demanded of Rebecca. Though he knew what she meant.

"Like an idiot." She spat back.

"Well how was I meant to behave with Mr Handsome pawing her constantly? Christ he never left her alone." Charles said.

He paused and then added before Rebecca could say anything else.

"Anyway it's not the first time."

"What?"

"Me and Molly... we saw each other last October. When she was last home." Charles continued. "We talked."

"Oh." Rebecca squeaked out. "Did you say sorry then?"

"Christ Rebecca. Of course I did." He shouted back. "I said it again and again. Apologised for everything."

"You never said." She replied.

"No I didn't, did I?" He snapped. "I don't have to tell you everything."

"Why does everyone want to interfere when it comes to me and Molly?" He'd knew it was up to him to sort it out.

"Besides." He continued. "It didn't do any good did it? She's moved on. Found someone else." Then quietly asked. "How long?"

Rebecca had been prepared for this question.

"A while. Close to six months." She said gently back. "Think it's serious. Sorry."

"Shit." Was all he replied. "I guess then that's really it." Was all there was left to say.

He'd been gone for such a long time. She paced around her rooms. Her past history always making her think the worse. She was starting to really worry.

He'd volunteered to do extra shifts. The service was down numbers and the beautiful crisp autumnal days of April made the mountain ranges of New Zealand all the more appealing for walkers. Hence the need for more rescue call outs, more folks simply out there with limited experience and definite lack of understanding of how the weather can suddenly change. And change it did.

It was windy, cold, raining heavy and visibility was poor. The worst conditions to be out looking for someone. The worse conditions to be flying in, and George was out there doing just that. Yet he was one of the best, one of the dedicated ones. He knew his stuff and she tried to calm herself down with that information.

Since their trip to England they had been getting along well. Really well. They spent most of their free time together, shifts and workloads depending. They socialised together, and over the past few weeks, they almost lived together to. His clothes, personal effects starting to take over her floor space. She didn't mind. She knew her place was closer to both their works than his. It wasn't an issue. Except it was fast becoming one.

She knew he was after more. She knew he was after it all with her. He'd told her numerous times how much he loved her. Never directly, always testing the water, afraid of her response. Just as she was afraid of what her response would be when she was expected to say it back.

It wasn't that she didn't love him. It was that she was unsure if she loved him like he deserved to be loved. A part of her unable, and maybe even unwilling, to give over her heart completely to another. Unable and unwilling because the last time she did that it had been well and truly trampled over. And she, in the end, just hadn't been enough.

Even in this happy state with George she still worried about her past, how she couldn't escape it, and it was as she had feared. Now that Charles knew where she was, how to get in touch, he'd started doing just that. And that's what he was now doing. Not in a direct stalking way, just in a very subtle Charles James' way. The odd e mail about the charity, the odd text about Sam or his mum. Something or nothing, but they started up a previously severed link to each other. A link she felt happier having severed, concerned about how she'd manage with his attentions once again. And so each and every time he made contact, Molly never replied back, not once. Too afraid to start up a friendship with him on any level.

It wasn't just fear though that stopped her. She needed to protect herself: aware Charles didn't love her, and there was no hope for them, she needed to live for what she had, rather than what she had once wanted. Also there was George to consider in all this. She had a loyalty to George. A loyalty she believed in and knew how it felt to be on the other side of infidelity, no matter what level the act was committed at.

Every car that drove close to her apartment. Every time her phone flashed with some unconnected alert she reacted, and when he did finally knock on the door hours later, she fell into his arms as he stood on the door step.

The tears flowed down her face as she hugged him. She told herself right there and then, Charles was the past and she couldn't lose George, not like she'd lost another before. Having him here, back in her arms was perfect. Or at least it was until he spoke.

"Missed me?" He asked.

A simple question, but as he stood there hopeful for her answer she was transported back to years before when she had stood on someone else's doors step saying exactly the same words. Her mind tried to cover up the confusion her body showed. Her face, she was very much aware, was betraying the emotions that had breached from her heart at the resurfacing of memories.

She tried to hide it, but she failed. He'd felt the change in her, he'd seen the change in her. He moved skilfully past it though, for now.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asked later that night.

Molly lay next to him in bed, they weren't touching, were close but she felt a million miles away from him. Despite the emotions they'd had before, they both feigned sleep as soon as they got to bed. For once, unusually for them, sex was not on the cards.

Now in the early morning, the dawn was on its way, George rolled over and addressed the elephant in the room.

"What's going on Molly?" He asked.

"Nothing, and no you haven't done anything wrong. It was just all a bit... you know?" She sighed back at him.

"That's it Mols! I don't? You never say. You never tell me anything." He replied. His voice level and soft.

It was always so calm with George. No shouting. No storming off. No fireworks. He wasn't like that. The complete opposite to Molly. He was considered in everything he did, everything he said. It had taken her a while to get used to it, but she did, and while most of the time this calmness was nice, it wasn't Molly. She wanted love, but she also wanted fire, heat, passion. She wanted the fights, so the makeup sex would follow. She wanted the slammed doors, so they opened again with intense contrition. With Charles she had all that in abundance. With George she didn't get that. Every day was even, controlled.

She gasped as she realised yet again she was comparing George to Charles, and saw only fails rather than differences.

"Ain't nothing to say." She began in an equally calm voice. Inside she was screaming, begging him to lose his control.

"Think there is?" He lay on his back with his arms tucked under his head.

She glanced over and saw his Adonis figure silhouetted by the early morning light. His blond hair, longer than usual fanning out on the pillow. His eyes focused on the ceiling above him full of the pain he was in. He was gorgeous. He was kind. He was everything she should be wishing for.

She didn't reply, so he continued. With care.

"You still love him don't you?" Was all he simply asked.

Tears silently rolled down her face. She hated this topic of conversation, with anyone, but especially with him.

"No." She managed to say with a steady voice that even convinced her. Her face half turned away from him, she was certain her tears weren't noticed.

He made some type of negative noise to her answer.

"You sure about that?" He asked. "Or is it just me?"

She still hid her hurt and focused up on the man next to her.

"You what?" She asked, pretending to be confused.

"Is it just me, or is it just you...?" He said slowly. "That can't see that you still love him?"

"What?" She yelled back. "What do you mean? Still love who?"

George laughed, a sad lonely laugh.

"Charles."

"George…." She began.

"Look Mols." He stopped her. "You know how I feel about you. I always knew we had to do this slowly...but I thought after seven months you might have told me at least once how you feel." He still didn't look at her, but she felt his pain.

"It's not that easy." She replied. "It's complicated... and well... it's just hard."

He rolled over and gathered her in to his arm. He could never be mean to her. She felt at peace, safe, that the confrontation was passing.

"It's OK Mols. You take your time." He kissed her lips and tasted the tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

And just like that the emotional bomb was defused. Was over... for now.

He sat for a while considering. He did this each and every time. She probably just thought the few texts, the e mails, were one offs. Just throw away remarks, not the considered scripts they truly were. It had been a week or so since he'd last messaged her. Since her birthday night he had tried to do it once or twice a week. It was a tradition he'd started. She though, he sorely noticed, never replied.

He was close to giving up. Stopping all together, but then his mother reminded him... Benny had never given up on them. So why should he?

Like all his texts they were simple and never once implied he expected her to reply. She guessed he didn't want to force her, or that he simply didn't care either way. No conversation had ever come from them, and she could deal with that. She was managing them.

However his latest one thought affected her more than any of the others. The words in his text flinging her back to a happier time. She smiled as soon as she has read it. Hadn't deleted it, and days later still had it on her phone and revisited it often.

_**Might gonna need a medic! Just used the very last of my Rosabya capsules! C**_

The words he'd text were part of their start. She knew that. He knew that. What she didn't know was how to reply, and so yet again she didn't.

The autumn turned into a harsh winter. The resort and the village hit hard with flu and winter bugs. George himself, this unbeatable man, even succumbed to the flu, and Molly took time off to care for him. She saw the hope in his eyes as she tenderly looked after him day after day.

After that illness, without ever discussing it, they suddenly found they were definitely living together. All of George's effects now officially at Molly's, and they seemed settled. His insecurities over Molly's feeling for him never mentioned again. They 'L' word used very infrequently by both. George to scared he'd push her away. Molly to scared to admit to how she truly felt. However Molly at least felt settled, and believed that was enough.

That was until Mia showed up. George's rescue service had brought in other pilots from the New Zealand Air Force to help with their staffing shortages, and increased workload. The need for help and family issues in a village close to the resort meant Mia was a semi-permanent fixture for the foreseeable.

George knew Mia well. Everyone did. A beautiful, popular local girl, who'd he'd grown up with. A close family friend. Plus she was his first love; and the woman who broke his heart. The woman he believed was his future, before she left to peruse her dreams. She left to join the Air Force, to train and become a successful pilot for them. Her world and everything in it changed and she left George brutally behind.

It had taken him many years to recover. To try again. Molly was his attempt at having another go. She knew that. Just like George was for her. He felt settled with Molly, happy, and Mia's appearance back in his life, without warning, caused him a mild degree of concern only.

However Molly saw it all. She saw the way Mia still looked at George. How she smiled a different smile just for him. She was never inappropriate, she never stepped over the boundaries of friendship, but Molly still saw that the flame Mia had once held for George had certainly not gone out.

From George though she saw nothing but the sweet kindness that made this man so unique. She knew he'd never look at another. That he was loyal and accepted his old flame back into his life with happiness and friendship... and that was all. Yet she also knew that he'd never let go of his feelings for Mia. That the loyalty he had for them, also was loyalty he still had to the memory of him and Mia. She was still a very special someone in his life.

In all this Molly saw a potential disruption to her comfortable life. Saw how her lack of words, her lack of the expressions he wanted to hear, her hesitancy after almost a year together, might change things now Mia was back in his world. Knowing the hard way, how one partner not communicating, holding back what they felt, could destroy a relationship, and so she started to try harder with George.

"Not that I'm complaint Mols, that was amazing, but what brought this on?" He asked setting his knife and fork down.

She smiled. He knew her too well. Never one for putting herself out when it came to preparing meals, yet tonight she had. The full Monty. Everything homemade, numerous courses, candle light and even music. Romancing him as she never had done before.

She was scared of being on her own again. Scared that she'd messed this relationship up too, and needed him to know how she felt, before it was too late.

He stared at her as she made her way across the table to him.

He opened his arms willingly and accepted her with a simple kiss as she sat on his lap. Her delicate body, held firmly in his large frame. He knew she was building up to something. He also knew he just had to wait it out until she was brave enough to say it.

She held his face and stared into his blue eyes. Eyes that were shining for love, just for her. She ran her fingers over his jaw line and felt the bite of the stubble that grew there, and she liked it. Pulled herself up. It was now or never.

"I love you." She said. Simply and with a very shaky voice.

After a year together that was the first time she'd ever consciously told him that. She watched as the happiness danced across his handsome face. As her words made his heart burst with happiness, and she knew that no matter what her past had been, or still was, she was right to try to love this man.

He'd hoped she'd come. Knew it was a long shot, but still he'd sent her the invite to attend the charity's second premises opening. A huge achievement for all involved, and it was no coincidence that Charles insisted the opening occurred in the month of October. The month Molly usually came home on leave.

So he had hoped she'd come. Knew though that she wouldn't, and so when the doors to the day finally closed and he sat alone in his office he no longer held out any hope.

The delicate knock on his door brought him out of the day dream he'd been having. Not a happy one, a memory of what he'd once had and what he now no longer had. A sad look on his face, a heaviness to his world.

She'd spent minutes before knocking just watching him. Sitting alone in the semi darkness. She knew he was thinking hard. His hands ran through his curls repeatedly and he was mumbling. A happy memory she had of a similar situation from their early days, flooded her mind. How years ago she'd surprised him in his office as he'd worked late. How she'd treated him to a desk picnic, and ear for his moans, and a body which he had adored right there on his office desk.

She pushed it down and controlled her breathing. even the memory affected her. She was here to see him, to simply talk. He'd invited her to the day. Had messaged her several times with the question about her attendance. Yet she hadn't answered. Hadn't intended to, though something happened in her life, there were changes ahead and Molly knew she needed to see him.

"Charles?" She said quietly after her gentle knock.

He jumped up from his seat at seeing her. Unsure at first if she was real.

"Molly?" He smiled as he walked towards her. "You came. Thank you."

She sat down in the seat he offered. They both clumsily fudged their way through a lack lustre hug. They moved to safer ground as he busied himself in making her a tea.

"I had a look round." She said. "The new place. It's amazing. You've done a great job."

He dipped his head and studied his toes. Her compliments always made him blush.

"Thanks." He replied. "So..?"

She smiled, encouragingly. He never used to be stuck for words, and to see him now made her realise that she still affected him. He might not love her anymore, but she still had the ability to win him over, however slight, with her charms and magnetism. To Molly that felt good, that she still had something over him.

"Thanks for the texts. And e mails." She said. "I'm gonna go and see your Mum tomorrow. To catch up."

He lifted his eyes to look at her.

"You didn't mind?" And seeing her shake her head. "It's just you never replied. Not once." He added.

"Yeah." She picked at her nails rather than look at him. "Guess I didn't know what to say and that."

He nodded as though he understood. A silence fell between them. He had so much he wanted to say. He wanted to stand and hold her, grab her, never let her go until she knew how sorry he was, and how much he still loved her, but he didn't.

"You home alone this time?" He asked.

"Yeah." She smiled at the rueful face Charles was pulling. "All alone."

Things were changing in Molly's world, she was moving on with living, and that was one of the main reasons she was here. The chance to visit the charity only a small weak excuse. She knew she had to see Charles. She knew she had to explain to him in person.

When she first explained to George, told him what and why she was doing it, he was silent. She persevered, he listened, and as her commitment to him grew, new plans were made, he accepted it. He'd agreed to her returning back home because he trusted her, he was asking a lot from her, and because he knew it was something she had to do.

"I brought you these." Molly said as she place last year's purchase on his desk. Six pods in a plastic sleeve. A red ribbon tied around.

His eyes lit up and he let out a small chuckle.

"Rosabya? Where? How?" He asked picking them up and turning them over in his large hands

She watched. She'd always loved his hands.

"I've my sources." She mirrored the grin he was giving her. It felt light and happy with him for a while.

"Thank you." He said, and he stood and moved towards her. "Don't know if I deserve them?"

He was hopeful though at such a personal gift. The inclusion of the red ribbon filled him with hope.

"Nah. You probably don't..." She teased back. She bravely continued. "Thing is... well... I kind of needed to give them to you."

His eyes raised in question. He stared at her.

Her body language tight and her barriers were up. He moved no closer.

"They are kind of like a good bye present." She looked directly at him.

"Goodbye?" He asked, but he knew what she was saying.

"Yeah. The texts, the e mails and that... well they are gonna have to stop." She said.

"Shit." Charles said. "Shit Molly. I hope I haven't caused any problems." He really meant that. "I was just being friendly. I just wanted to be your friend."

"Yeah I know, and no they haven't." She reassured him. "George ain't like that really,"

She watched as he snorted in disagreement. His past experience with her boyfriend hadn't indicated that.

"Then? What?" He shook his head. "Why 'goodbye'. I mean I understand... but why now?"

She looked down at her shoes. She looked out of the window. She eventually looked into his chocolate brown eyes as he stood silently pleading with her to answer him.

She started out quiet, but then grew stronger.

"George has asked me to marry him." She stated. "And I've said yes."


	9. Chapter 9

**Lizard**

**Chapter 9**

"The End." He said flicking the torn paper from his beer bottle into the dying embers of the BBQ.

He watched as it burned brightly and quickly, the flame briefly lighting up his beautiful face.

There was only Rob left to hear Charles' statement, but he didn't care.

The night was cold and frosty. Sam had had a crazy idea that this New Year's Day they should have a family BBQ... in the snow. No one had said 'no' to him, aware he had a lot of adjusting too. And so, as an odd extended family, they roasted a joint and some vegetables outside in Rebecca and Rob's garden, enjoyed the novelty for a while, then all rushed inside to eat. They all laughed it was a nice idea, in theory. In practice not so good.

It was now later on in the evening. Sam, bored with the old folks, had gone out with his friends. While Charles' Mum was napping on the sofa, and Rebecca was putting the twins down for the night. And so that left Rob having a sly festive cigarette outside, while Charles kept him company.

"I guess it is mate." Rob slapped him on the back, consoling him, and just answered automatically. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. My own fault." He sighed as he swigged the last of the beer. "I don't know... I just never thought..." He shook his head not even attempting to finish off the sentence.

"She's moved on. It was a long time ago; you and her. Maybe…." Rob tried. "You need to as well... you know move on?"

Rob had accepted Charles in to his life, he seemed part of the same package that came with Rebecca. Never saw him as a threat, and Charles never came across as one. Truth be told Rob struggled to imagine him as the strong leader that both Sam and Rebecca once knew and talked about. From the first day Rob had met Charles he'd been sort of broken, and he soon realised he was broken because he had lost Molly. Rob struggled to understand the whole PTSD side of things, the military life all very alien to him; plus his first wife had cheated on him, so he struggled to have too much sympathy for Charles. He simply viewed him as the adulterer he was. Still he liked him, and was happy to welcome him into his home... for Sam and Rebecca's sake.

Silence then fell between them, there was little more to say. Eventually Rob left Charles alone with his thoughts.

He often went back to that day. He often wondered how he could have played it differently, and knew he should have. Wondered if he had spoken up about how he still loved her things might have been different. Yet he hadn't, and all hopes, all dreams ended when she uttered the words 'and I've said yes.'

His Molly had moved on. His Molly was soon to become another's.

Of course he had congratulated her. He had moved awkwardly forward to give her a painful hug, and then he retreated. Physically retreated back around to his side of the desk where he sat down and played absently with a pen. Mentally he retreated behind the false mask of indifference he'd been so used to showing her in the dying days of their marriage.

There was small talk for a few more minutes. He saw how she blew on her cup of tea desperate for it to be cool enough. Desperate to drink it, fast, and leave. His heart ached at how uncomfortable she was with him. How she sat there with a degree of desperation, and maybe even expectation from him, yet he was unable to deliver it.

So she stood to leave. Straight, confident and reserved with her goodbyes. He ran his hands through his hair, unsure whether a hand shake or a hug was appropriate when saying goodbye to your ex-wife for good. Instead he reverted to type. The stiff upper lipped arse hole he had once been. Instead of moving closer to her begging her for another chance. He merely stood and leaned over his desk, hands supporting him on either side, and for want of any better words to say dismissed her on her way.

He was a fool. She looked at him, and he saw hurt. She turned away from him. She wished him well but her back remained to him. He saw her shoulders shudder once, twice and he was unsure if she was crying, but then she left, and he'd never know. He let her go again and he felt pain.

A lump of melting snow slid off the roof and startled him out of his black day dreams, he moved inside. Rob offered him another beer and the two men started to clean up. Happily going about the tasks, with small talk.

"I reckon she's fallen asleep." Rob commented as he looked at the clock. "Fallen asleep reading the twins their bed time story I guess."

Charles laughed.

"Sounds like Rebecca."

"Yeah well you know what she was like with the twins. Couldn't keep her eyes open, and that was five years ago. She's even more tired now." Rob justified his slumbering wife's absence.

Charles smiled remembering how even when she was much younger, during her first pregnancy with Sam, she was even wiped out then with tiredness.

"I remember, when she was pregnant with Sam, she once feel asleep in a cafe". Charles laughed at the memory. "She was so embarrassed when the owner had to wake her up because it was closing time."

"She never told me that one." Rob laughed. "But poor girl, it's hard on her... being what they call a 'geriatric mother'... plus having the twins to run around after... she's exhausted."

"All's good though? Right? She's well?" Charles asked. He still cared about her.

"God. Yeah." Rob confirmed. "She just likes complaining." He turned away and started to put the dried plates away. "It's good." He said with his head deep in the dresser. "She has Molly to moan to... and they have been comparing symptoms."

Rob knew as soon as he said it, it was the wrong thing to have said.

Charles knew as soon as he heard the words, they were words he didn't want to hear.

"Symptoms?" Was all he asked. "She's pregnant! Molly's pregnant?"

"Fuck fella. I thought you knew." Rob stood up straight and looked uncomfortably over to Charles

One half of him should have known Charles would not have known about Molly being pregnant. He knew the family, Margaret and Rebecca, tried to keep bad news away from him. He still was, and still needed to be managed by them all. Yet on the other hand Rob argued with himself, he felt Charles should know. Maybe even hearing the news would let Charles give up Molly.

His mind turned the news over and over again. Accepting she was lost. There was always the hope she wouldn't marry George, but now with a child on the way there was no way back. He saw that, and slowly began to understand, to realise. The news brought him some relief. It was though this final bit of news was what Charles had been waiting for, the information starting him on a path of breaking free from the crushing hope he'd always had about them.

It was an early Christmas present Molly certainly hadn't expected and was totally floored by it. The increasing discussions they'd been having about the wedding, the job, her residency, all suddenly would be ramped up once the news was out. It was a lot to get her head around, no matter how hard she tried.

Hard because there were some days she couldn't feel as enthusiastic about it all as she ought to have. The lack of support from home over her decision, and the hurt she felt from her last time at home, still praying on her mind. On top of that she'd been feeling odd, off colour, for a few weeks. Exhausted, drained, after each long shift, and blamed it on delayed jet lag. Then the hyper sensitive taste and smell symptoms caused her to go off her food.

George, she knew, was concerned; he always was lately. Usually his Molly was a force to be reckoned with, but now he saw the change in her and began to worry. Once or twice he mentioned the black circles under her eyes, her lack of proper meals, but each time she battered his care away. Finding excuses, and reasons, distractions each and every time.

He couldn't let it continue and as the weeks rolled closer to Christmas

he felt he had to address the problem. He feared the reason. Thought it was down to cold feet. Thought she was scared, or the very worst, had changed her mind. And so he hesitated again and again about asking her what was wrong.

He'd been so happy, so surprised. when she had accepted his marriage proposal. It had been everything that he had wanted, and right now he couldn't bear to let her go.

"Are you ok?" He asked carefully as they sat in his on call lounge at the rescue centre.

His shifts were the total opposite to hers for the next month, and her visiting him at his work was the only way they were spending anytime with each other. Despite it all, she seemed to still want to do that.

He waited for her reply. Over the past couple of days he'd asked that question a lot, and each and every time the reply had been shorter.

This time though she didn't snap at him. Instead she just turned around and nuzzled her face deeply into his chest. The scratchiness of his flight suit reminding her of exactly where there were.

That she couldn't, wouldn't, cause too much of a scene about all of this. About what she had to say.

She pulled her head away from him and saw sincerity and fear etched on his face all at once. She wasn't being fair to him. He was suffering and she didn't want to hurt him. She needed to tell him.

"I'm pregnant." She said looking directly into his eyes. "About six weeks I reckon."

And then she waited.

Kids were always something she'd wanted. Wanted them with Charles, but neither of them could see a way to that happening while they both were in the Army. Both, during the early days, not willing to sacrifice their individual dreams for the sake of having children. So she had put them out of her life plan, and moved on instead with her career. She had been so thankful, that when her and Charles did fall apart, that they had never taken any steps to have them. That it was just two adults that were affected by their separation.

With George, the talk of having children once again in her life, had been touched on. He wanted them, he told her, desperately wanted them, and she surprised him, but not herself, when she admitted she did too. Both agreeing that it needed to be right, the right time for them both, the right place for them both, and now she was pregnant she guessed that it was. Fate had intervened.

Watching his face as she delivered the news she had no fears. She knew this was what he wanted. He was just getting his wish sooner rather than later.

"Pregnant Mols?" He choked out. "Really?"

"Yes!" She smiled back at him and squeezed a few tears of happiness from her eyes to show him how pleased she was too.

He stepped back and for a moment she thought she'd had it all wrong. His face was blank.

Then he stepped back into her personal space, and held onto her arms.

"Are you?" He began. "I mean... are you happy? Ok about this?"

"Shitting delighted." She giggled as she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

It took him merely moments to catch up with her as she pressed her lips into his. He felt her delight, and his burst forth too.

"I'm going to be a father." He laughed out loud and the kiss ended.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and gazed at her.

"I love you. I really love you." He pulled her tight into him again. Crushing her face into his. Effectively silencing her. It was what he always did after he told her he loved her. It made him feel safe, it made him feel connected to her, and it stopped him from being disappointed when she never used to say the words back.

This time though he was surprised. She forced her head back from his grasp.

"And I love you too." She shyly replied looking at him as she rubbed her hand over her invisible bump.

"It won't be like this forever Sam." Charles said as his son moped around the garden.

It was the end of a long hot August, and Sam was definitely feeling stir crazy. His life had changed so much in the past weeks. Rebecca had given birth, to a lovely, loud baby boy, and Sam had received his A level results. He was off to university, and his start date couldn't come quick enough.

"Your Mum is just really busy with the baby and the girls." Charles tried to make him feel better.

"I know, but Dad you'd think she'd be a bit interested in where I'm going and that." Sam wined.

"She is." Charles laughed. "She's just got baby brain for a few weeks that's all."

He went over and hugged his son. Something that Sam didn't allow very often. It thrilled him when his son hugged him back. They had both come a long way to feel this comfortable with each other again.

"She still loves you. You know that right?" He said.

Sam, heard his Dad, but pulled away. Instead he grunted and went in doors and to his room; he was staying with his dad to get away from all the crying and noise at home. His attempt at finding some peace for a while.

Charles watched him go, and remained looking around the garden of the house he'd lived in for nearly two years.

It was a beautiful English summers day. The flowers were blooming, the insects making the garden alive with noise. He sighed as he knew he was so going to miss it all.

Yet he knew it was time. He was moving on. A secondment through the charity had come up. A personal request actually from some aid organisation that had heard about him and the charity's work. An offer for a year's placement in America to study how they managed their immigrants, their education and their training.

At first he'd been reluctant to leave. He felt he was just getting started with the charity, despite being there for two years. Yet as he saw their need increase in size and demand, he knew some changes needed to be made. The secondment was the perfect opportunity to learn.

He also saw how Rebecca was changing, and it was a constant reminder that Molly's body would be mirroring hers in size and needs, and he knew he needed to move on. Every time he saw Rebecca and her progress, he appreciate more and more how little his life had.

He now felt it was time to stop punishing himself over Molly and their marriage. Over Elvis. Over Georgie. It was time at start again. He knew he'd always love her, and would regret the pain he caused her. Yet he'd always want her to be happy. She deserved that after his crimes against her, and if George was what made her happy then so be it.

The e mails stopped. Just as she had asked. There were no more texts. Her number deleted from his phone. The box of memories he'd kept from their marriage, stored away in his mother's shed. He intended to become the man he had been all those years ago. A new start, and America was going to give him that.

His only guilt was about leaving his mother, but she was forgiving in her consent. She knew it was necessary, and wanted the best for him. He once again would be leaving Sam too and felt sad, but he knew he was off on his next adventure in life and didn't quite need his Dad as once he had.

In fact no one needed Charles anymore like they used to. Partly because he wasn't the man he was any more, and partly because everyone else had moved on. They had left him behind.

He'd planned to leave at the start of September, wanting to be away by the month October. A month he always associated with Molly and her return, and so he expected no less this time. He guessed with a new born she'd probably be over longer too. Proudly showing off her baby to all, his mother and Rebecca included, and he intended to be well away from that hurtful and awkward situation.

Yet he delayed his departure by several weeks. For Sam. Rebecca too caught up in nappies and bottles, he saw his son needed help. And so Charles waited until the middle of October before he planned to leave. The intervening weeks he therefore spent packing Sam up and moving him into his Uni digs were busy and expensive.

Time flew by and he neglected to do a lot for himself. He was keeping the house, the wrong time to sell. Instead he'd planned on locking it up and putting his car in to storage, despite Sam's pleas to give it to him! But he still needed to tidy things ways, make plans and buy the last few essential items before his departure, and his last few days were spent madly shopping and packing.

"Don't take the piss Bella." Molly flared at her younger sister.

The baby was in the pram, asleep and Molly was ready to go.

"I said I'd do this for you as a favour. This ain't happening every day. Got that?" Molly warned her.

She pushed the pram out of her parent's home and accepted a stranger's help rather than struggle down all those stairs on her own.

Molly and been home, alone, now for several weeks and this was the first time going into the city on her own.

Just baby and her.

She was nervous but knew she was more than capable. Besides she was relishing the time alone without everyone staring at her checking she was ok.

She was fine, well not totally fine, but she was getting there, and she needed today to prove it to herself and others.

When she told Bella and her mum that she was going into the capital's centre for the day they thought she was mad. They tried to dissuade her. Told her it was too busy, too crowded for a pram and a new born, but Molly insisted. She was home, back in England. She had shopping to do, a tradition to keep and no tiny baby was going to stop her.

It took her a whole half an hour of struggling and sweating before she knew that she had made a mistake. She'd reached too far. Today, now was not the time to prove anything to anyone. She needed longer. She needed to do something simpler.

She looked around and realised where she was. Recognised the area and changed her plans. She wouldn't be shopping today. Today, instead, she'd spend with tiny, sleeping, baby Amy in the park they had just discovered. They'd feed the ducks, they'd have a picnic, they'd just simply chill out together and bond.

Molly found a comfy seat and reached for her phone. Totally unsurprised when she saw that there had been umpteen texts from Bella and her Mum asking if she was ok. She answered each and every one. Hoping by doing so she'd give them some confidence in her.

It was a beautiful day, surprisingly so for early October and surprisingly Amy slept on. Molly guessed the fresh air was benefiting them all.

Her phone beeped and she annoyingly took it out of her pocket again. Except this time it wasn't her family who was texting; it was George. His daily text checking up that she was ok, and that no matter what, he still and always would, love her.

She smiled as she texted him back that she was fine and she loved him too. Happy that she could finally say those words to him, and that she did so often.

They had come a long way in the past months. They had become engaged, found out they were to be parents, and planned their wedding. All boxes were ticked for a happy ever after. Both enjoying the ride, and then the disaster happened.

At first she woke up thinking his pager had gone off, then realised he wasn't there next to her. Away on some training exercise with the rest of the service. She felt unsettled by his absence, unusually so, and then the pain hit her.

The cramping definite pain that every pregnant woman dreads. She was only 12 weeks pregnant. They had only just told all their friends and family. She couldn't believe it was happening, and it was happening while she was alone.

Next came the bleeding and the shivers. Molly knew and called on her friends for help. Ironically it was Mia who was there first and who drove her to the hospital. George uncontactable, Mia stayed with her throughout it all. Yet there was nothing to be done, by anyone. She had lost the baby, and all she could was to meet head on the pity she saw in everyone eyes.

A day before she had been happy, hopeful and planning a life with George and their baby. Now she was empty. Alone in a strange hospital bed, and no energy in her to plan anything ever again.

Mia stayed with her for the next day, until George came smashing through the door. Molly knew by his face he had heard, and she knew he was asking the same question to the Gods that she had done...why?

He dived straight in to her, and they held each other like they had never done so before. They needed the connection for their grief. He cried, she apologised. He said sorry, she cried. It was a pattern that was repeated constantly over the next several days and weeks.

They both hurt. George was lucky he had friends and family around him. They were there for him. They were there for Molly too, but as the weeks moved on she resented that he had his people, while she didn't have hers, close by.

The wedding plans stalled, then stopped. Both agreeing they needed time to grieve for their child before they could do anything else.

They still held onto each other. They still turned to each other, but it was not as before. Something was different. They both had lost something that they would never get back and it broke them apart from each other little by little. Day by day.

Everyone said it was natural. It took time. Everyone said it was to be expected and they both just smiled and held each other's hand, but both knew that this time for them it was a little bit more.

For months she grieved, even to this day she still did, and she still would have continued in the cycle of sadness and expectation if his mother hadn't said something stupid. So stupid, but to both of them it was a wakeup call.

Over a family dinner, one where they both tried to smile and pretend, his mother suggested that they try again. Try for another baby. George was furious at her, Molly amazed. Both left very soon, leaving behind a contrite matriarch.

However George's mothers words had stung them. They were young. They were in love... right? Wasn't it therefore natural that they did try again, if not actually do it, at least talk about it, or expect it one day.

Yet they both realised that neither of them did. They both still loved each other. Both still saw each other as their best friend, but they both didn't want to try anymore.

They didn't want to try for another baby. They didn't want to try to get back to how they were. They didn't want to get married. Whatever they had had was no longer. They both accepted that, and knew it was time to say goodbye.

That was hard. Molly loved her life out on New Zealand. Loved the job the people, and had loved him. Loved him just enough to have considered leaving her family behind and moving there forever. But not now. Her miscarriage had shown her she needed her family. She need her own country. She needed to go home.

And so that was what our girl, Molly Dawes, did. The end of her contract, the end of September saw her in a heart breaking goodbye with George, and all those she had known over the past four years. She said goodbye to a man she truly loved, always would love him, but just not enough.

Her arrival home caused more tears. Those of happiness and those of sadness. All treated her differently and delicately. Watching over her continuously, especially when Bella was around.

Her younger sister Bella appeared to be repeating her mother's past mistakes. She had got herself involved with a no hoper, a waste of space, and had fallen pregnant by him. Her due date days away from Molly's permanent arrival home.

Everyone expected Molly to be a mess. Not to cope around Bella but she wasn't. This was Bella's baby not hers. It was sad and painful at times, but not once did she envy or begrudge her sister a moment of the wonderful experience she was going through.

The day Amy was born was frantic and loud. Molly supported her sister all the way through the birth. The no hoper nowhere to be seen. It was only then. Just that once, when Molly held her niece, that she almost crumpled as she remembered her own baby. How they would have been so close in birth days, and how this bundle she was holding could have been hers.

As expected Bella needed a lot of help with the baby. Now living back at home and dependent on her family for all the support, emotionally and financially. And so that was why Molly had chosen to take her baby niece out for the day. To give Bella and the rest of the house hold a break from the crying new born. As well as to give Molly a break from her family.

As if on cue Amy woke, and her lungs filled with shouts of hunger. Molly in a short time had become a dab hand at caring for the demanding bundle. She lifted her out of the pram, and expertly fed her. Cradling the bundle in her arms. Cooing softly as she sat on the park bench enjoying the closeness, and the peacefulness of the surroundings. Her heart was already lost to her baby niece.

He wished to take one final walk around his park before he said his goodbyes. This was the park he ran around every morning. The park that was filled with activity morning to night. Full of children, courting couples, mother and babies. It was always alive, and the warm autumn sunshine made it even more so today.

He walked slowly taking it all in. The colours, the sights, the smells, and then he saw her.

She looked beautiful.

His Molly.

Sitting peacefully and contentedly on a bench cradling a new born child.

He thought about going up to her and saying hello, but he knew he couldn't. He still loved her too much to see her with another man's child.

Maybe when he was stronger. Maybe when he had become the strong man he vowed to become again. Just not now.

He shook his head, as he watched her. Was tempted to call out to her, but yet again he didn't. Instead he raised his hand to his lips and blew her a kiss. Her back was to him and she never knew, but that didn't matter he'd know forever that he had kissed her one last time goodbye.

He turned. He knew it was definitely time to go. Time to leave her to her new life, her new husband and her new baby, who he knew would be as beautiful as her.

He turned and walked away from her.

Walked away from his past and towards his unknown future.


	10. Chapter 10

**Lizard**

**Chapter 10**

"You should charge by the box." Molly sniffed out taking another tissue. "You'd make a bleeding fortune with me around." She tried a laugh, but all she managed was a snotty gurgle.

Margaret delicately laughed though as she sat back and watched Molly, red eyed and puffy faced, wiping the tears away from her eyes once again. Still she wasn't sad about that, it was just so good to finally be there for Molly, be another shoulder for her to cry on, and she'd even joined in too. She felt the last couple of hours had been necessary, good for them both. A good cry was often just what was needed.

It was early January and this was the first time that Molly had been to see her since her permanent return home. Since it had all gone spectacularly wrong for her. She had stayed away from visiting them for months, on purpose. Her attempt at self-preservation. Even Rebecca and Sam hadn't had a visit from her. She wasn't strong enough for a while. They all understood that, kindly explained that to her, and they never pushed her. She was battered and bruised still, mentally and physically, still metaphorically speaking licking her wounds, and they knew one day she'd be in touch.

She didn't have to explain anything to them once she saw them. Of course they all knew. Even Charles, this time had been given the share of the sad news by them. Molly had made no secret when and why she had returned home for good, and it was a very sad day the day she telephoned Margaret and told her all. When she had shared how her world, yet again, had been broken right in front of her eyes.

Molly had always needed space. They all knew she needed time also, and that is just what they gave her. Despite how desperate they were to offer her their love and support. As the weeks past so did their expectations. Secretly Margaret had hoped she would visit them all over Christmas, but she didn't and they accepted that.

Margaret was therefore thrilled though when she called weeks later and asked if she could visit. There was never going to be any answer but yes.

And so here they were, on a dull January day. Sitting once again in her front room at Royal Bath Crescent. Talking like old friends do. Crying the way you can only cry in front of an old friend. Sharing their sadness and hopes for better days. There was also lots of laughter too. Lots of good times remembered.

Despite it all Molly was pleased to see that Margaret was doing better than her. She had, through the bridge club, reconnected with a few old friends of hers and Benny's, and her social life was acceptable. Christmas time had been especially hard, but she got through it. Just like she got through every day. She still missed Benny and had her moments, but compared to Molly she had no worries at all.

"It's fine." Margaret said as Molly pulled herself togethers. "And I'm sorry for you love. So very sorry."

That was all she needed to say for now. She knew Molly to well, and dwelling on a situation, giving her pity was the wrong thing to do. She did empathy our girl, but not sympathy.

Margaret saw her favourite ex daughter in law slap a brave smile on her face as she drank her tea. The tenacious Ms. Dawes was returning. A small release had been found and for now that was enough.

"So?" Molly began addressing the elephant in the room. They had been skirting around it all morning. "He's still out there then?"

"Yes." Margaret said as she slyly looked at Molly to see how affected she was talking about Charles. "Didn't even come home for Christmas." She said with a tinge of sadness. "Has a lot on. I understand that."

"Oh wow!" Replied Molly. "He must be having fun. I mean, to stay out there and that, for Christmas."

"I think he is." Margaret said, then continued as Molly appeared ok. "Well you know Charles?" Margaret said. "He's never happier than when on the move."

Silently Molly agreed as she listened to more tales about Charles and his new life.

From the start of them Molly had known that Charles had always loved the tours, the semi-permanent life style they gave, and she guessed she did too. Over the years she had considered maybe that was another reason they just didn't work. Neither of them really wanting to truly settle.

Yet after George, after the miscarriage, she knew that was no longer how she felt. Molly now knew what she very definitely wanted in her life was a home, a base. To be settled. Somewhere she could return to night after night after night.

"How's it living at home?" Margaret asked after she had finished talking about Charles. The Dawes clan she only too well remembered were loud and many in numbers. Molly had always loved the peace Charles' family home had to offer compared to hers, which is why her and Charles were such frequent visitors.

"Hell." Molly laughed. "I'm back to sharing me room, sleeping in a bunk bed with me little sister above me and me niece in a cot in the corner." She shook her head. "It's noisy. Busy…and it's doing me nut in." She replied honestly.

Margaret smiled. She saw the restraint on Molly's face, and appreciated how hard it must be. She was loyal. Loved her family, but every one had their limits.

"Must be hard. Any luck on the job front?" Margaret probed on.

Molly shook her head as she buttered another of Margaret's scones.

"Nah. Drawing a blank on that too." She said sadly. "Have a few shifts a week through an agency. Working with the Red Cross as a patient transport escort, but that's it. Enough to keep the wolf from the door but not enough to get me anywhere to live."

She bit into the scone.

"I'll definitely be living at home for the foreseeable." She scoffed.

It amazed Margaret how this brilliant girl, who had had so much within her grasp, so many times, had been robbed by Lady Luck of her chances again and again. Still she never moaned, never raged against the machine, she just kept on going. Kept on trying. Molly was, as Charles had always declared; special.

They soon parted and the house felt very empty once she had left, it always did. The rooms silent and dead Margaret reflected on how unfair it all was at times. There was Molly all squashed up in her family home while she had all this space, and it got her thinking. She wanted to help Molly and thought she knew just exactly how.

He was unsure just why he was doing this, but just knew he had to. It was the right thing to do. She had very much sold him on that. Once she had an idea in her head, she stuck to it. He laughed silently, as he did, as he had done so many times before realised it was because of her tenacity that he was attracted to strong women.

He nervously dialled the number he'd never forgotten and waited. Unsure if she'd answer, never mind if she'd agree to his plan. Margaret and Charles' plan.

"Hello?" She picked up his call, and that was more than he had dared hoped for. Then he realised his number would not have come up on her phone. Trans-Atlantic numbers didn't, so she wouldn't have known who it was. Hence her suspicious greeting.

"Molly?" He asked. Though there was no doubt in his mind it was her voice. God how long, he wondered, had it been since he'd spoken to her over the phone? He suddenly became very nervous as the lightning bolt of memories hit him. Memories that were telling him the last time they had talked on the phone would probably have been when she had ended it with him. Before Lane, before he ruined it all.

He pushed that sickening thought down.

"It's Charles. Charles James." He added for clarity.

He said his name and he waited.

Unsure as to whether to be encouraged as he heard the hitch in her breath, and, by the fact she hadn't hung up on him instantly.

He knew a hundred and one things would be going around her head. They were probably the same thoughts as in his head too. It wasn't nice. He couldn't stop momentarily thinking about all the pain and suffering she had been through again. How the ending of her engagement, and the miscarriage must still hurt her each and every day.

The truth be told he'd been so shocked when he had heard the news. Certain that when he had set off for American he had silently said goodbye to her as she held her child, and was immersed in her new life. It was only many many weeks later, a throw away comment from his mother righted his mistaken beliefs, and identified the baby as Bella's. His heart broke on hearing about her suffering, it was a low time for him, and the guilt came back.

Guilt and misplaced blame, that somehow if he hadn't done what he had done, then she would not of had all this happen to her now. Yes he knew it was illogical, his mental health worker had told him that repeatedly over the years, but he still keenly felt it.

Still guilty though he was, on hearing the news he didn't not once think about returning home. Did not consider rushing back to console her, to tell her that he still loved her; even though he did. He knew that wouldn't do and wouldn't be right for them. It never would again. Instead he stuck with his plan. He'd made a decision to move on, give America a go, and that's what he was doing.

His involvement with her had hurt her once, many be had even hurt her twice, and he had no intention of doing it again. He would let Molly live her life, and he would live his. Separate.

Well that was his plan until his mother called with an alternative plan.

"Charles? Charles! Oh. Hello?" Molly answered his call, surprised.

"Hi." He said shyly back. It did feel good to hear her voice. "I... err... look. Sorry about calling you out of the blue and all that." He began. "It's just I'm home in a few weeks and well... Mum said you'd been talking...and I was wondering if you'd like to meet... for a coffee... tea I mean…sometime?"

He heard the sharp intake of breath, and realised this was the last thing she had expected.

"Don't worry." He attempted to laugh out. "I have something I want to talk to you about. Something that may interest you. That's all."

He was setting boundaries, but still he marvelled at just how nervous he was talking to her despite his business type tone.

"Oh?" Was all she said. In truth her ability to talk was beyond her.

"An idea I have." He almost apologised. "Any way as I say I'm back at the start of Feb. Thought we could talk then?"

She didn't know how it happened but she agreed. She had accepted his invite, and arranged voluntarily, without accident, to meet Charles once more.

As the day approached she told no one. She was past nervousness as she stepped off the bus and walked down the street to the cafe he'd suggested. She was beyond excitement. She was way past feeling anything except amazement she had agreed to meet him at all, and her ability to put one foot in front of the other.

As soon as she opened the door she saw him. Sitting nervously in the corner. Playing with the salt and pepper cellars on the table he was at. His long legs tucked under the table, and she could see them bouncing up and down with nerves. He looked so good. Casual, dressed in blue jeans and a soft blue cashmere jumper. He looked as good as he used to. He had evidence the American sunshine on his face, and it made him even more handsome in her eyes. His brown curly hair had streaks of lighter brown in them where the lucky sun had kissed them. His beautiful hands and slim fingers, still free from any gold band she noticed, drummed the table as he waited for her.

She knew she had made an effort. Pretended that morning and the days leading up to it that she hadn't, wouldn't. Yet she did. Her hair was loose and glossy, just how he used to like it. A small wave ran through it. She knew she still had the New Zealand tanned skin and her make up was therefore minimal, only her eyes were made up special. Again just how he liked it. She wore a colour she knew complimented her, and the jeans that flattered her. All the time she got ready that morning she told herself it was to give her confidence, but she knew, the way her heart traitorously fluttered when she saw him, she had done it all for him.

"Hi." He beamed a beautiful smile up at her when he saw her standing next to the table. "Good to see you Molly." He added. Amazed that he could speak so naturally when his heart was booming inside his chest so loudly.

All she could muster was a quiet 'hi' back and felt shy as he dipped his head and kissed her, friendly, on her cheek.

She caught a whiff of his unique smell, and almost hung on to him for moment too long.

"Hi." She smiled back as she took off her coat and sat opposite him. Just like that she thought, how easy it was to feel content in his company. "Good to see you too." She offered. "You look well. Really well."

"I am. I really am." He said back. And she knew he wasn't lying. Gone was his haunted look of past meetings. He looked healthier and happier than she had ever seen him before.

"That's good." She said almost sadly. Inexplicably sad that he was doing so well without her.

He pick up on her sadness.

"And you? I heard about... well I'm sorry Molly. Really sorry." And he was. It still hurt him to think about her pains.

"Yeah. Was a bit shit." She attempted a giggle but some rouge tears sprang to hers eyes and he saw.

He surprised her, and he surprised himself. He reached out automatically and grabbed her hand. Running her knuckles over with his thumb. Caressing her hand.

"It must have been so hard." He dipped his head to try to regain eye contact with her head as she hung it low.

Her lose hair had fallen like a curtain around her, and he was sorely tempted to pull it back and tuck it behind her ear, but he didn't.

She suddenly looked up and smiled. Wondering what was going through his mind as he gazed at her.

"Yeah." She straightened up and pulled her hands from his. She still feared pity. "So America? How's that?" As she pulled away she sat back in her chair. Creating a distance between them.

He picked up on her non verbals straight away. The change of subject, he saw the old Molly traits, and appreciated she needed to move on.

He leaned back in his chair too. A distance increasing once again between them.

"It's good Molly, really good." He answered honestly, almost without thinking.

She smiled at his reply, and asked him several questions about the secondment as they sipped their hot drinks comfortably. They talked naturally for a while. She did most of the asking and he did most of the answering, at length. It was very obvious to Molly, that the placement was going well, and he had embraced his new life well. He talked about the people, the places with such warmth. The happy animated, passionate Charles she had once called hers.

She listen, and heard it all. The things that were said and the things that weren't. Molly eventually got brave and curious. He used to say they were two of her deadliest traits.

"So this Laura?" She asked. He had mentioned her name several times as he'd talked. She had popped up in most of his sentences. Molly was certain that this was the reason he hadn't come home for Christmas.

His brows crashed together in her surprised question, while a small flush spread across his face.

"Oh! She is one of the members of the project team I work with out there." He said as he gazed past her around the cafe to avoid her eyes.

"So?" She teased. Though knew not why, she didn't want to hear about it, but as they we're now tentatively friends she felt she needed to ask.

He slowly found her eyes and tried to understand what they were saying. She never flinched from his gaze.

"It's early days." Was all he offered flatly, but he couldn't disguise the small smile on his lips as he did.

He didn't want to talk about Laura to her, and so he snapped back into stern mode. Into the controlled Charles she had once known, and had even fallen in love with.

"Actually. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He started as he saw her sit up straight out of habit on hearing his clipped tone. It made him smile.

"About America?" She asked confused and a little bit scarred. "What?"

"Well. America. Yes and no." He laughed. Then he began. "They have offered to extend my placement. There's so much to learn." He added. "On both sides."

She nodded with a confused look. Her heart was racing. She guessed she was about to hear words that signalled the beginning of his new life.

"The charity has said yes. Happy for me to stay out there for another two years." He looked at her. She'd shown no startling interest in what he was saying. She wasn't going to miss him. So he went on.

"The thing is Mum told me about you living at your parents again." He grinned. "Must be noisy!"

She laughed.

"Like you can't imagine mate." She replied.

"Well..." He began. "With me being away for so long. I kind of need someone to move into my house. A house sitter as you like?"

"What?" She had never expected this. "Live at yours?"

"Well of course it goes without saying." He reassured her. "I won't be there."

"What about holidays and that?" She asked.

"I'll stay at Mum's, when I'm back." He picked at some imaginary fluff on his trousers. "Thing is Molly I don't expect to be home that much actually."

And there it was again. That little grin on his lips and his thoughts must have drifted off to Laura and her charms.

She snapped him out of his day dream with her refusal.

"Thanks and that Charles." She said with a forced smile. "But no."

"No?" He answered her back. "Why?"

"It will be weird." She said. "Living in your house and that. Besides why?"

"I told you... I need a house sitter. Anyway Molly. Yes it's my house. My house that I haven't lived in for six months." He added. "Besides you'll be doing me a favour. A huge one."

She considered. It would be an answer to her prayers. Yet still. He owed her nothing and she didn't want to be beholden to him.

"Can't afford it. Can I?" She said. "Still no proper job."

He leaned forward and crossed into her personal space. She smelt the coffee on his breath and the warm waft of him as he did so. His face tantalising close. She very nearly leaned over to kissed him, but pulled back. The memory of everything stopping her.

"Well that Dawes." He coloured at saying her name. "Is something else I may be able to help you with!"

She looked and listened.

"So let me get this right?" Dave mocked. "The fella who royally fucked you over is now your knight in shining bleeding armour?"

He crashed about the crowded sitting room. He turned on Molly.

"He's doing all this for you without any strings or catches?" He asked. "You're a mug if you believe that Mols."

"Yeah he is Dad." Molly squared herself up for the fight that was going to ensue. "And no I ain't."

"Why?" Belinda asked and interrupted the tense atmosphere. "Why Mols?" Worried her daughter was about to get hurt all over again.

"Cause he can I guess?" Molly replied. "Cause he's being kind and I'm helping him too."

She knew this would be a hard one for anyone apart from Charles and her to understand. She knew it sounded crazy, but she also knew that Charles was trying to right the wrongs he had made with her, and for once she was going to let him.

His offer of his house to her. For her to house sit it for him for the next couple of years while he was in America was extremely generous. His further offer of a job at the Charity, part time, to help cover his secondment was even more generous.

It was the perfect solution. It helped appease his guilt on so many levels. While it got her some space and a semblance of her life back, and it meant she'd have money to start saving again. So she had said yes, and the beautiful genuine smile on his face when she did, made her understand how important this was to him.

They left the cafe that day as almost friends again. Promises to meet up in a week or so for Molly to view the house. Charles needing time to make sure it was as respectable as possible for her to move in to.

And so on the day they did meet, at his, she was nervous as a kitten. Back in his space again. In his world, and everything that was him, but still she bravely went ahead.

It was a simple three bedded terraced house, with a beautiful garden. Something, she could see, somewhere he'd obviously took a lot of time with, and that surprised her. He'd never been a keen gardener before, but she liked the thought of the change in him. On the face of it, the house was nothing special, but to Molly it meant the world. That she was here. That he had offered it to her.

"This is really kind Charles." She said. "You know that don't you?"

He was standing at the kitchen sink drinking an inferior coffee as he watched her happily wander around his small kitchen. He felt something in his heart stir, as he saw her once again in his home. It was familiar, it was something he had so desperately missed.

"Really kind!" She shakily added as he didn't answer straight away. She caught a glimpse of something cross his face and it made her doubt.

"It's a perfect solution." He said snapping out of his day dream. Trying not to squirm under her gratitude. This was his way of helping her, the woman he had loved and had robbed her of a happy ever after. "You're the one doing me the favour."

She looked at him and held his gaze. She wanted something more from him, for a long time always had, and could have pushed. The atmosphere felt right, but she didn't. Instead she became practical. Realistic. He no longer thought of her like that.

"You don't owe me anything. You know that right? Not anymore." Was what she said quietly. "What's done is done?"

He moved closer to her, but still the kitchen table was between them. He saw that for her there was no going back. He understood. Yet he still needed to do this.

"I think I do Molly." He answered. "I fucked up big time. Your life... and mine. I'm sorry." He knew there'd never be anything like the trust they once had between them again.

"You know?" She said as she sat down. "I think it's alright. I kind of understand and that. Well I do now. Bit wiser ain't I?"

"But you can't forgive?" The words were out of his mouth before he knew. Stupid stupid words. Words that were filled with small seeds of hope.

"Don't know if there's anything anymore to forgive." She said. "It was so long ago."

"There is that." He said quietly, knowing it was too late, too long ago to think anything of her love for him would have survived. He still stood while she sat. Afraid to move. His arms tucked under each other as they crossed his front. Almost as though he was protecting himself. Yet he still needed to tell her. "I hurt you. I betrayed you. I let you down."

She swallowed hard at those words, but had long ago forgiven him. It was over five years ago now and she had worked it out in her mind again and again. His apologies, his illness, her understanding, and time all went towards negating the pain. Over the years since they had been apart she had tried to forget. Tried to move on. Almost succeeded, but throughout it all she never stopped with the love her heart had for him.

It could be so easy she thought, for us to move forward together. Yet she knew that would never happen. He'd told her once before, how he thought what they had wasn't strong enough. Not to take away the blame from him and his actions, but to show her she was capable of more. Of someone more deserving. She knew though the chances of that hope were slim, it was hard for a new love to usurp the old tenacious love her heart still had over him.

"Charles." She briefly closed her eyes. "Let's move on yeah? With our lives. No more 'sorrys'." She offered them and continued. "That's the past."

She smiled and offered her hand out to his.

"Friends?" She asked.

"Friends." He confirmed with a smile as he shook her hand. A smile that seemed more genuine than he felt. A smile that hid the protest he felt at being relegated to the friends zone by his true love.

And so within a few weeks Molly's life was off on a new tac and she was sent for a new adventure. She moved in to Charles' home. Took up the very small box room. The main room being the one Charles used and she felt uncomfortable using that. The second room being very definitely Sam's. Yet Molly didn't mind she had her own room again. Her own space and a job. All thanks to Charles James. Once the destroyer of her world, now her saviour.

Her parents were very frosty for a long while. Both saw her as making a mistake, again. Saw her depending on Charles for a life again. Yet Molly didn't see it as that. She saw it as what she knew it was meant to be. Two friends helping each other out, and that was just what they were. She knew that what they now were, and when she shook his hand on the snowy March day as he departed for his return back to America, she considered that maybe that was all they ever should have been.

As predicted by Margaret Molly took her charity work all in her stride, and showed them all her worth. The care, love and dedication she showed impressed everyone, and soon her hours increased, as did her position within the team. Very quickly she became the go to girl who could sort problems out, deal with situations and proved answers. Her role and time in the Army standing her in good stead. They saw her skills a mirror image of Charles'.

Throughout it all she kept in touch with Charles. Not on a daily basis, but maybe once a week or so. It started off with simple e-mails about the house. Genuine queries she had about the boiler settings, or the alarm maintenance, and then it started to become a bit more. He'd email with questions about her day, she'd reply and ask about his. Then the texts started, she couldn't help herself. If she saw something funny on her bus ride to work, heard something that years ago they both would have giggled at, she'd text him. Happily and with relief she found that he started to do the same. Started to text about where he was, and the people he worked with, Laura's name frequently coming up. Even so Molly found it nice, being back in touch with him, and didn't fool herself that they were finally anything more than just friends. Yet for her it was enough.

"You'd best get the best china out Molly." The voice said excitedly down the office phone. "I'm coming to see what you've been up to." He joked.

"What? Charles?" The sound of his voice so suddenly, so unexpectedly, cause a silly part of her tummy to flip over. She ignored it. "What you going on about you nutter?" She laughed back.

"I'm coming over. To see you. Well we are…." He spoke and she could tell he was smiling. "Well not just to see you..." He suddenly felt embarrassed. "I mean that will be nice... but the charity too. In October."

She grinned all the way through his telephone call. Took down all the information she needed to hear. The American charity organisers were wanting to do a field visit on them. A group of delegates were coming over. For two whole weeks they'd be visiting, and Charles was giving them a heads up on it all. It was exciting. A time to learn and a time to share new ideas, and to showcase their own work since Charles had left.

She was excited, and the planning, the organisation of their timetable mainly fell to Molly. She wanted to show Charles just how good she was at the job. Wanted to show him his faith in her had paid off, and as the time got nearer she became more excited.

Even the final sentences of his phone call, words she had almost missed, didn't dampened her excitement. When he mentioned that he was bringing someone special over too. Someone he'd hoped she'd like to meet, he wanted her to meet. He was mysterious as to who it was, even though she didn't ask, but she knew he meant Laura, and although it hurt a little bit more than she would admit, it didn't hurt enough to quell her excitement.

She was going to see Charles again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Lizard**

**Chapter 11**

As the time approached for his visit she became more certain that she had made huge errors. An error in firstly taking on the job, and secondly an error at moving in to his house, and thirdly an error becoming tied up again, in one way or another, with Charles and his life.

She didn't back down though. She helped with the schedules, planned the days of their visit, and the more she knew the more she regretted everything. The main thing she knew was that there'd be just five of them, and she knew there was only four hotel rooms booked. That was the important bit of information she wished she didn't have. Obviously someone was sharing, and she imagined that someone would be Charles with his Laura.

Laura. Her name had been mentioned lots in his texts and e mails recently. She was becoming important to him. Molly could tell. He'd started mentioning about the trips they had done, the people they had met, the places they had seen together. The person who she knew was the one person he really wanted her to meet. The person that was now_ his_ person in America.

It was hard not to dwell, and she couldn't. She couldn't show her uncomfortableness about the visit, it was too important, and it was highly anticipated by all. So she played along, smiled when she should have smiled, none of her other work colleagues knew of her and Charles' past, and she very much wanted to keep it that way. As each day passed she went along with her work with a happy face and counted the days down until she saw him again.

The day then arrived she'd arranged to arrive later than normal, not that an unusual occurrence and in the excitement it drew no comment. Molly knew she was putting it off, but she dreaded seeing him again, for the first time in such a public gathering, unsure how they would react to each other. She therefore just slipped into her work; her job, and hoped they'd bump into one another in a far more appropriate way. Her day went with no interruptions. She neither saw him or heard him, and presumed he was avoiding her too.

She did however, as the day went by, have plenty of time to study the other visitors. Two men, as Charles was missing, and two women. They were efficient, integrated and everywhere. Molly kept out of their way, but hung back and studied them

The two men didn't interest her as much as the females did.

One was smartly dressed and efficient. A pleasant looking lady in her mid to late 50s. Attentive and comfortable with the group she was with. Happy to be there. She caught Molly's eye once or twice, but didn't hold her attention for too long, too focused on her work. Molly liked that.

It was the young stunning beautiful 20 or so year old however that Molly studied. She didn't want to, but she was drawn to her presence. She was tall, with ridiculously long legs, long blond hair that shone, despite the dull October day, and an expensive killer smile. Molly just knew that this was his Laura.

She sat a home that night and ate her beans on toast with no TV on and no music. Silence. Instead she flicked through the visitor's profile literature she'd been given on her way out. Her immediate boss, thinking he was doing her a favour, as well as being keen to bring her up to speed, as he told her she was expected to socialise with them the following night at a planned event.

There were no pictures, but Molly didn't need them. The memory of long legged Laura etched on to her eyes. Her profile confirmed all she had feared, and Molly was no match for her. As she read about Laura it appeared that she had equal amounts of both brains as well as beauty. Majoring from some high profiled American colleague and surprising them all by dedicating herself to charitable causes. A kind caring girl, who had shunned Daddy's money to make her own way in the world. She seemed too good to be true Molly thought, with more than a touch of envy. Though she couldn't deny she was perfect for Charles. Offered him a lot more than Molly ever did, or could.

He was exhausted, as he guessed they all were. They had stepped straight off the plane straight into their first working day. They rolled up at the charity happy, and curious. They were thrown into the deep end, and he'd become instantly immersed in staff meetings and forums. During their welcome meeting he spent very little time listening to what was being said. Instead he'd spent his time looking around the room for Molly. The realisation, when it came, that she wasn't there was surprisingly crushing. He hadn't expected to be so disappointed. Yes, he admitted to himself that soon as he knew they were coming over, all he could think about was the fact he'd seen her again, but he didn't know until he didn't, realise how much he so wanted to see her.

His time that day was short at the charity. He was needed for another personal meeting elsewhere. He left before she arrived. He consoled himself though; he was there for two whole weeks, and they'd meet up...eventually. He had so much to tell her.

He was nervous and excited at the same time, resigned to the friends zone she had delegated him to, he felt that the news he'd have to share with her would therefore be received appropriately. So much had happened. So much had changed and he needed Molly to know. Thought it was right that she did.

His colleagues sat with him and had one quick drink in the hotel bar. Listening to some wild talked from Laura, who was centre of attention as always, but soon they made their way up to their room. All too tired to socialise and aware they had another big day ahead of them.

He'd almost forgotten to do it. Something he'd promised himself to do as soon as he had seen she wasn't there. He'd intended to text her all day, but time had run away from him. And so careful not to disturb the other sleeping form in the room, that was starting to snore, he reached for his phone.

_**Sorry I missed you today. Hope to see you tomorrow. C**_

She threw her phone down on the bedside cabinet. She hoped she'd sleep well tonight, but doubted it. She had spent all the night thinking about texting him, but didn't want to interfere, and didn't. Her heart raced when she saw it was a text form him, but soon returned to its normal rhythm when she saw how emotionless and matter of a fact it was. And so Molly turned off her bedside light knowing tomorrow there would be no avoiding seeing Charles James... and his Laura.

"Hello Molly." She felt him before she had seen him. For that she was grateful and had moments to compose herself.

He shyly stood at the office door as she did her admin. He stood straight but dipped his head. His eyes focused on her as he held his arms ran rod straight by his side. "How are you?"

"Hello." She tried to pull in the huge smile in her face, but couldn't. Pleased though as she saw that it pleased him, as he returned the smile.

"Good. Missed you yesterday." He said, and for a moment she thought he sounded sad about that. They she realised he was just being polite.

"Sorry and that. Had stuff to do." She lied as she waved a hand over the files in front of her.

"Good to see you." He added as he moved into her office and sat down on the other side of her desk. He bit his lip as he knew the smile of his face still hadn't quite left it.

"Yeah and you too." She tried to focus on the pen she was fiddling with but couldn't keep her eyes from his.

"You joining us tonight?" He asked. "There's someone I want you to meet."

She saw the excitement flash in his eyes as he spoke, and she felt envious.

"Err. Yeah. Just gonna finish this off, and then I'm off." She dully added.

He noticed her change. The smile gone and he guessed he'd take up enough of her time.

He cleared his throat and stood, gently placing the chair under her desk. Using it as a prop to avoid the lack of eye contact neither of them now gave each other.

"Good... see you later." He said.

He turned on his heels and marched out. Seriously doubting if the introduction he had planned was a good idea.

All the time he'd been away. All the time he'd spent with Laura. All the time he remembered what they once had, once were and were no more, he felt that it was the right thing to do. Yet now the time was here. Now the time to share his and Laura's relationship with her, he doubted if it was the right thing to do at all.

She arrived late. A lot later than she had expected, and she knew why... she didn't want to be there. She wanted to be far far away, because she'd meet her nemesis.

She had dressed carefully, once again. Needing the confidence, plus she had stopped and had several glasses of Dutch courage before she left the house. A trick that still remained from the old Molly Dawes days. Knowing full well it always served her badly, but tonight she simply didn't care. She needed it.

As soon as she walked through the doors she saw him. Holding court. The beautiful blond, Laura, hanging on to his every word. He didn't notice though, and didn't court her attention. The Charles, she knew, had never been a flirt. Molly remembered at least that much about him. In all the years they were together, she never once saw him use his looks to gain anything. Always almost embarrassed when they were mentioned. He was just kind, friendly and sociable. Many ladies took this the wrong way, but Molly always knew he was loyal and faithful to her.

That was until Georgie. That's why the Georgie situation was so hard for her to understand. The things that were said, the things that were done, were not done by the Charles James that she knew. He had suddenly, after Elvis' death, become almost a stranger to her. She never saw it coming. Would never have suspected it from him. It was just wrong. Yet somehow it had happened.

Molly made her way to the bar and ordered herself a double. She mingled with a group of her own colleagues. Laughed and joked with them. Staying away from Charles.

He saw her and raised his hand in a shy way to acknowledge her. A cute boyish grin spread across his face as they held each other's gaze for just that bit longer than needed. Then his attention was snapped back by the group he was with, and by Laura.

Too quickly she was at the bar again ordering herself a drink. Another double. She took a sip and then a swing as Charles' group separated. She then raised her glass in the air as a silent toast to him as he watched her.

The alcohol was doing its thing. She started to feel somewhat dizzy, numb, but kept on drinking.

It was the cloying smell of her perfume that first alerted Molly to Laura's presence.

"Hi. Molly is it?" She smiled down at her from her tall position. Offering her hand. Foolishly Molly had worn flats tonight and was no match for this beauty's height. She felt very small.

Molly sucked her face up onto a semi almost believable smile, and drank on acknowledging her guest with a raise of her eye brows.

A burst of laughter rang out from the room and all eyes turned to Charles.

"He's great? Isn't he?" She dreamily said.

Molly smiled and let out a weak;

"Yeah!"

"Have you known him long? C said you were old friends."

"C?" Molly asked. Her face twisted in disgust at the nickname.

Yeah C. Charles. Charlie." She simpered back.

"Charles!" Molly said definitely and stared hard at her. "Yeah. We were in the Army together. He was my CO." She noticed this girl obviously had no idea that she was once married to Charles. Molly knew it wasn't her place to say either.

"Right? Charles. He's told me so much about you." She went on. Molly smirked though knowing that he appeared to have missed out the important points. "I've be so keen to meet you. We all have."

Molly smiled perfectly and ordered herself another. Not offering her company a drink.

Dam the gin tasted good tonight.

As she politely turned to excuse herself from her one to one with the American Beauty Charles appeared.

"Hi Molly." He smiled at her and then she saw his eyes half close in wonder, as he scanned her face. "Pleased you made it."

Before she had a chance to say anything. Laura pressed her arm to Charles' and told them she was going to 'powder her nose'. Charles just smiled and kept all eyes on Molly.

"Thought you needed rescuing." He laughed as soon as they were alone. "She's quiet a handful at times."

"She's lovely Charles." Molly kindly said.

"Yeah she is." He smiled. "Got a heart of gold too, but is like a machine gun when she meets someone new. Hundred questions a minute I reckon." He chuckled as he swigged his beer.

She just smiled pathetically and laughed.

"You ok?" He asked as she wobbled a bit.

"Yeah. I'm good thanks." But the numerous drinks on an empty nervous stomach weren't doing her any favours.

"You're drunk?" He laughed. Remembering how amorous a slightly tipsy Molly used to be. Uninhibited and so open with her heart and feelings. It made him sad and the laugh stopped instantly.

The sudden stopping of his laughter, and Molly saw it as a sign he disapproved and she bristled.

"No. Even if I was, what do you care?" She answered back a bit too more harshly than intended.

"Wow." His eyes widened in surprise. "Was only saying." He replied.

Running his hand through his hair and looking around the room he wondered how it was all going so wrong, so quickly.

Molly saw his upset and as always felt for him. She still deeply cared for him and knew she was being unfair.

"Sorry." She meekly said.

"It's ok." He answered. "Are you ok though Molly?" He asked full of concern. He moved closer to help her appear slightly steadier than she appeared.

She pulled her lips in and looked at him. Curling her hands up and digging her nails into her own flesh. She needed to be strong.

"I'm fine." She smiled. Then paused, took a deep breath and said. "I meant what I said though Charles. She's lovely. Laura."

Charles' face instantly changed. Confusion spread across it.

"Laura?" He asked. Looking around. Half answering her. "Yep she is." Then he turned back to her and said, concerned. "I didn't think you'd been introduced."

"Well not officially like." Molly said as Charles placed a glass of water in front of her and nodded his head at her to drink it. "She just came up and started talking. You know what these septic tanks are like?"

He shook his head.

"She's not American." Charles added. "She's Greek."

"Oh!" Was all Molly said. "She didn't sound it." Then added for good measure. "She calls you C."

Charles' head whipped up.

"Molly who the fuck do you think is Laura? Cause there's only one person here that calls me C. Knows it pisses me off, and it's not Laura."

"Eh? That girl I was taking to when you came over. The beautiful one who's gone to powder her nose. That one." Molly was drunk, but not that drunk.

Charles threw his head back and laughed. A pure laugh of delight. She knew he was laughing at her and it hurt.

"Molly. Sweetheart." They both paused at the unintentional slip of her pet name as it came from his lips. Stunned for seconds he then continued. "That wasn't Laura that was Emma."

Molly had too much going through her alcohol sozzled mind. She looked up at the giant of a man in front of her. The man who used to be her world and questioned him.

"What?"

He continued.

"God no that's not Laura. That's Emma. Tall, loud, inappropriate at times but bloody good at her job." He placed both hands on Molly's shoulders and gently spun her 180 degrees around.

His arm stretched out and pointed to a more sedate group sitting in the corner. Amongst them was the smartly dress 50 year old plus woman who she had briefly seen on the first day, but had dismissed as no importance.

This woman. The actual Laura saw them both looking at her and smiled. A kind smile. No bitchiness in it all. No concern that Charles was talking about her holding on to Molly's shoulders still.

"That's Laura." He said with clarity and pride in his voice. "The Laura I've told you about."

Molly's eyes opened wide. She would never have guessed. Would never have expected. Her Charles to be with a woman so much older than him. 20 years at least. It hurt that he had found happiness with someone else, but it hurt even more that he had found happiness with someone so much older, and so different from what she would ever have imagine.

She pulled herself together. Tried not to judge. He was obviously happy if the grin on his face was anything to go by. Laura's smile back at him was just the same, if not kinder and softer.

Her mind was blown. She felt concerned that her Charles was obviously so broken, still so full of self-doubts that he had found someone outside what society would be expect. He went for someone who could give him comfort, stability and care, but there again she reasoned, wasn't that what were all after.

He spun her round once he'd pointed out the true Laura, still smiling, back to face him. Waiting for her to say some things. Yet she couldn't. This person wasn't who she'd imagined she'd lose him too. His smile dropped and he looked hurt.

Her gut churned.

"I feel sick." Was all she managed to say.

It hadn't been her finest few hours. She now lay there on her bed, mortified about what had happened.

After her declaration to Charles she had rushed outside the pub, and the alcohol did what it always did to her. It came back. She spent several minutes heaving away before she felt calm enough to make her way home.

Alone and the tears came. Tears of pity. Tears of loss. Tears of loneliness. Tears about how pathetic she had become.

She waited a short while and saw a cab heading her way. She successfully hailed it down and as she stepped in the door was held open further.

"I'm coming with you Molly." Was all he said.

They sat in silence in the cab until it pulled up outside his own home. It felt odd her letting him in as though he was a guest. She had little time to think about it though as another wave of nausea racked through her body, and she ran to the bathroom.

She stayed hugging the toilet for a lot longer than needed. Too ashamed to face him. He used to hold her hair when she was sick. He used to help her, climb into bed with her and hold her. He used to make it all better.

"Molly." He knocked softly on the door. "You ok? I've some water here for you."

"Go away Charles." She groaned out to him. "Please." Too embarrassed to face him.

"No... not going to happen." He sternly replied back. "Cause you know if I do you're going stay in there all night."

She released the lock and saw him standing there. He'd taken his coat and shoes off. He undone the first few buttons of his shirt and looked so relaxed. So right.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed." He said as he put his arms around her with such care. Helping her to stand.

He started to walk her to his room, but she gestured to the spare box.

His eyes shot up in surprise when he realised she'd taken the smallest room there was.

She accepted the water and sent him away. Telling him she could manage. He went downstairs and left her alone. She expected him to leave. Once her face was washed and her teeth brushed she soon realise he hadn't. The TV was softly on downstairs, and she heard him for a while moving around. Just once, only once she heard him creep up the stairs and stand outside her door. He said nothing and she made no sound, and then she heard his feet pad softly back down.

Molly didn't know what to do and once she had climbed into bed she stayed there. Lying still and mortified. That wasn't what she had wanted from tonight. She dreaded to think how foolish he would have thought of her now. Eventually though her brain stopped, and sleep and alcohol consumed her and she drifted off.

He lay uncomfortably spread out on his own settee. A small throw over just covering him. Wondering if he was mad. He had a perfectly good bed upstairs, but it felt wrong to use it without Molly's permission. He had a perfectly good hotel room to go back to as well, but it felt wrong to leave her. He'd explain his actions to all those who cared in the morning.

As he lay he looked around the room. They're were little changes to his home. He'd noticed new things dotted about as he'd walked around earlier. Signs that Molly was living there. It didn't upset him. It made him happy. She felt comfortable enough here to make it her own. He saw a few trinkets and pictures he remembered from old, and it made him smile thinking about how they used to be in their home. All those years ago, and how his Molly hadn't rubbished everything that had reminded her of their past.

It was late. Much later. Still dark and cold. He had managed to drift off but was woken but her footsteps. Padding one by one down the stairs. He knew where she was exactly by the creek of the penultimate stair. He sat up waiting for her to enter the sitting room. Hopeful. She didn't disappoint.

"Hi." She said quietly. Though she knew he was awake.

"How you feeling?" He asked as he rubbed the sleep from his face.

"Shaky." She replied as she hugged the enormous bathrobe around her.

He let out as small scoff at her reply, with a small smile on his lips. This was the Molly he knew, and he knew too just what to do. He stood quickly and walked past her, briefly touching her shoulder as he past and headed out to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later he returned. Two mugs of hot chocolate in his hand. Her go to hangover cure. She grinned cheekily as she saw him coming towards her. Her face cute and childlike almost.

She had curled up on the settee and had pulled the throw over around her. The night was chilly and the heating had gone off. As he sat down next to her, close, she automatically threw a corner of the blanket around him, and she snuggled deeper into the settee.

"Thanks." She said with utter gratitude and surprise, taking the drink and blowing on it.

She sat comfortably and she saw he sat almost perched on the edge of the settee. Tense around her. Cradling his mug and staring at his feet.

"I'm sorry." She offered and his head snapped up as though he had forgotten she was there.

He turned and looked at her. Unsure he should be feeling this way, but when he saw her run from the pub. When he'd finally caught up with her in the taxi, he knew he had no choice. He knew he needed to make sure she was ok. To make sure she was safe, and all thoughts of returning back to the hotel were lost. He still just wanted to protect her.

"No problem." He said kindly, but she heard the tension in his voice.

"Hope I haven't got you into any trouble?" She half asked, sneaking a glance up from her cup to watch his response.

His head slowly turned to her and his eyebrows knitted together. There was only a small table lamp on in the corner of the room, making it dim, but she saw enough on his face to see the confusion again.

"Trouble?" He asked and leaned further back into the settee. Almost forcing himself to relax.

"Yeah! With Laura and that?" She offered.

He chuckled and shook his head.

"No I'm a big boy now. Doubt she'll have noticed. Probably tucked up in bed fast asleep I'd imagine. Jet lags hits her hard."

"Oh." Molly took a drink of her hot chocolate. It was perfect. Just like he always used to make it for her.

As the sweet steam warmed her face she was taken back to how long it had been since he'd made her this drink. Since they had sat so close, in silence, sipping away. In the early days when she craved it, after an exercise, a tour, a night out, he'd make it for her without her even asking. He called it his 'love in a mug'. Cheesy they both knew, but it thrilled her whenever he said it, and he always made it just right for her, and it always hit the spot.

As though he read her mind he asked.

"Is it ok?" And he moved his head towards the cup she was holding.

"Perfect." She sought his eyes and smiled. "Bleeding perfect." And she was unsure if she meant the drink or the gentle moment that had developed between the two of them.

He sucked in his breath and shook his head. Self-doubt and memories again throwing a wall up between them.

"I... err... hope you don't mind me stopping." He asked. Staring ahead at the wall. "Thought with you... you know..."

"It's your house." She said quietly. "Course I don't." She smiled as he turned to look at her. "And thank you."

He took the cup from her, and their fingers brushed. He felt the danger in the situation, and turned away from her placing the cups on a side table.

"Well. I guess...?" He shrugged. "Another big day tomorrow."

"Oh. Right." She jumped up and moved towards the door. "Night then."

"Night Molly." He started to settle into the settee again.

"There's a bed upstairs you know." She happily announced. "Got your name on it and everything."

He laughed at how ridiculous it was. His own home, his own bed, and he was sleeping on a couch.

"Didn't want to presume." He offered back. "If you don't mind."

She shook her head and he followed her up the stairs.

It made her skin tingle, having him so close, and as he turned off to his bedroom room she rushed out.

"I'm pleased you're happy. You know that don't you Charles?"

He stopped and looked at her. Cute, sleepy, vulnerable, and he couldn't stop himself.

He leaned over and kissed her. A soft brotherly kiss on her cheek.

A perilous move, but one that came easily to him. She was almost too much to resist.

"Thank you." He stroked her face in a familiar way, ran his finger over her jaw, and he saw the anxiety on her face.

He stopped himself.

"Night Molly." He turned and went into his room alone.

"Night." Was all she answered back all be it silently. He'd gone.

His kiss had shocked her. Her mind screamed of how unfair it all was. How unfair it was to Laura. How unfair it was to toy with her, but most of all how unfair it felt to her, Molly.

Unfair because suddenly, that small peck on her cheek, caused her world to rock all over again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Lizard**

**Chapter 12**

The bad taste in her mouth and the throbbing to her head reminded her just how bad last night had been. That and the quiet and empty house she now woke up to.

When she woke her first thoughts were of him. She had gently walked downstairs, trying not to wake him, as she got ready and thought about making them some breakfast, but it was pointless. As soon as she entered the kitchen she saw the short note telling her he had left. Early. Avoiding any awkward morning conversations with her. No early morning dissection of the night before. Just silence and his absence.

She understood.

Although it hurt.

He had to get back to Laura. Explain himself. Besides she could never be that 'other' woman. It was right that he had left. Solved a lot of problems, but somehow created more.

The thought of it all, and the potential shit storm that his overnight stay may have caused made her groan. She knew she'd have to man up and face the music when she got to work.

With each step she took to getting towards her work she started to fear what she'd find. What today was going to bring. Aware that potentially her personal life was about to hit, at great speed, and with great mess, into her work life. That was something Molly had always avoided up to now.

Her first session though gave her some respite. Her usual lesson in teaching basic first aid to some of the clients. It was something she loved, and was still very good at. Over the years she proudly knew that she had got better at this. She always made the sessions fun, always got the best out of the attendees, but today she struggled. Her unfounded guilt, her constant worry, and the small brass band playing in her head made her slightly off her game.

It was unfortunate therefore that that was the session that their visitors chose to observe. She saw the looks and could only imagine their comments.

As the session went on, once or twice she made eye contact with Laura, amongst others. She saw no nastiness, no malice, but Molly knew she was probably too much of a professional to show it at work. Instead she saw her just note take constantly. Molly guessed commenting on her under par performance. Molly felt a fool.

Thankfully though, there was on some relief, as she still hadn't seen Charles, and for that she was totally grateful. Unsure what to say around him now. How to behave. Unsure how he'd react around her. She could only imagine it wouldn't be something he'd be looking forward to either. After all hadn't he escaped from her company this morning as early as he could!

So the day ticked painful on. Knowing all she had to do was avoid Laura on a one to one basis, and maybe, just maybe, she'd survive another day.

"I think we need to talk." The melodic voice suggested as Molly pulled her lunch from the staff room's fridge. "Don't you Molly?"

She straightened up and looked at a very resolved Laura standing in front of her. Perfect. Calm, and everything Molly felt she wasn't.

"I'm Laura." She said. Steely. "But you already know that. Right?" And she offered her hand out politely.

"Hi." Molly firmly took the hand. Knowing that the bitch fight was potentially about to kick off, and she wasn't going to be a shrinking violet in all this.

She didn't feel well enough for this though. Her hangover at was at max level, and her heart was still too fragile.

"Charles should have introduced us." She said. "But typically he hasn't. Shall we go somewhere for a coffee?"

Molly stuttered and looked at the kettle on the side with a question.

"I think." Laura explained. "What we have to say needs to be taken away from the work place. Don't you?"

And with that she turned and led the way out. Molly blindly followed her. Her heart sinking.

She sat in a small cafe a few minutes away, trying to pull herself together as Laura got the drinks in. Water and a large tea for Molly. She sat and watched Laura's every move. Appraising her just like Laura had done to her earlier. Molly saw that she was so confident, so controlled. Everything she did, she did with purpose, and with ease, Molly could easily see why Charles was attracted to her.

"I've asked Charles to join us." She said as she sat down and handing Molly her drinks. "Think it's only right don't you?"

Molly smiled falsely as she thanked her for her drinks.

It was so fallacious, and so forced. They chatted about pointless subjects for a moment or two. The weather, the cafe. It was pure torture, and so Molly took the bull by the horns. She started off the inevitable.

"Nothing happened. You know?" She stated. "Last night. Between me and Charles." She explained more.

Laura smiled back at her and laughter ran out.

"God I know that! After all this time I think I know Charles well enough to know that's not his style." She stirred her coffee and held Molly's gaze. "To pounce on some one half cut. Not Charles. Never." She took a sip of her coffee as her hold on Molly never faltered.

Uncomfortable under the scrutiny she looked away first. Molly felt the snub though, and felt stupid, but then began to wonder at Laura's words. They had seemed to have no nastiness about them, no sting. Rather a compliment to Charles and his morals. To the man they both knew.

"I don't know what Charles has told you Molly?" She began. "About me and him?" Laura's voice showed a degree of anxiety.

She gained some confidence in that. That they were both nervous Molly went to speak, but didn't get the chance.

"He's told me a lot about you Molly. About you, and him, and his past, and what happened." She leaned across and touched Molly's hand. "It sounded very sad, and I know Charles has so many regrets about it all. He never meant to hurt you."

Molly's mouth moved into an unbelieving 'O' and just managed.

"Yeah? It was bad...yeah... I know that now. That wasn't him." She moved her hand slowly back out of Laura's touch. It didn't feel right.

"He's come a long way by the sound of things. A very long way." Laura continued to champion Charles' cause.

Molly sipped her drink. Unwilling to start up more conversation than the painful one they had just had. Worried and scared just in case she got it all wrong.

Her silence wasn't putting Laura off.

"I think he'd like it if we were friends." Laura attempted again. "I'd like that too." She smiled and her whole face was bathed in total genuine sentiment.

Molly was shocked, tried so hard not to show it.

"You do? Why?" She asked.

"Because he means a lot to me. Because... well, because we're close...share a world... because he has few friends and the ones he has I don't want to scare away."

"Oh. I see." Molly started to bite her lip. "Yeah. I see. Be a bit wired though. Won't it?" She asked without thinking.

"What?"

"You and me friends! You know?" She stumbled on. "What with me being his ex and you being his girlfriend and that."

Her mind conveniently forgot that was exactly the relationship Charles, Molly and Rebecca had.

"Molly!" Laura laughed out. "I'm married." And then said with determination. "And I am definitely not Charles' girlfriend. What gave you that idea?"

The words slowly infiltrated her brain, and as she blankly stared ahead when she realised Laura was waiting for her to speak. She had asked a question and expected an answer.

She was saved from her humiliation, but then realised it was just about to increase further. Either way she couldn't stop what was happening, for at that moment Charles came bounding into the cafe. Instantly seeing them together he happily strode over to them. Excited. Happy. Placing a small friendly kiss on Laura's cheek, as he said hello, and was about to do the same to Molly when he caught her unwelcoming look.

He pulled his head back in concern and sat down. Confused. Rubbing his hands nervously down his trouser legs.

"You ok?" He asked looking from her to Laura with concern.

"I'll leave you to it I think" Laura said kindly as she stood. Placing a caring hand on Charles' shoulder to calm him. "You two need to talk." She pushed on.

And then she turned to Molly and said.

"It was lovely to meet you Molly. Think on about what I said." Then left.

Charles watched her walk away and then spun back around to Molly. He had so much to ask.

"What? I mean... everything ok?" He asked. Unsure where to start.

She shook her head at him, but smiled.

"I...think...so." She slowly let out. "I don't know. I mean I think I've just made a prize tit of me self... but yeah?" She smiled softly at him. "Think maybe everything is ok."

"Good." He stood, still not convinced and needing to ask more. He went to order them more drinks without asking. "I want to talk to you Molly, about me, and Laura, and what we've found." He left that with her as he moved away to the counter.

When he sat down she felt calmer.

Confused, yes.

Elated, oh yes.

Ashamed, well she could live with that.

Expectant, indeed, as he always lately made her feel.

She felt all the emotions she possibly could. Felt them in a way only Charles James inflicted them on her.

He sat back down and leaned back. Crossed his legs, one over the other. He looked at ease, but she saw the drumming of his fingers on his knee, that showed her he wasn't.

"Sorry I left without say goodbye. This morning." He started. "Just needed to get back." He looked at her. "Needed to sort somethings out."

"No problem." She gave him back, and attempted a smile. She reasoned he still hadn't explained why, but wouldn't pry.

"So what's been going on?" He asked. Waving his hand between the table. "You and Laura?"

"She's a good friend of yours isn't she?" Molly asked, avoiding the subject. "She means a lot to you?"

"Yes." He answered back. "She's been good for me. We work well together and have become good friends." He finished suspiciously. "Why?"

"I think I just offended her." She saw him looked horrified and about to speak. "Told her I thought she was your girlfriend!" She felt ashamed at her admission.

"She's married!" Charles rushed out, shaken that Molly would think that of him, and then sadly realised that his past behaviour had warrant that low opinion of him. It hurt, and he wondered if she'd ever look on him differently again.

"I know." She quickly answered almost certain she knew what he was thinking. She saw his shoulders slump and he almost shrank in front of her. "I was being stupid." She reached for his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

He nodded his head, and they gazed down at the hand she now held in hers. And so he brought up her's between his and interlace her fingers. Curling and stroking her small hand as he did. Like he always used to. She said nothing. She made no move to stop him and he continued stroking her knuckles and gazing at her watery eyes. It all just felt so right.

They both felt it. She knew they both felt the same thing. Her belly twisted with a burst of glee; her breath hitched. The air thickened between them, with anticipation, with words unsaid, and with a certain fear. Fear that things between them were shifting. Shifting in a way neither of them had any control over. Still she didn't want whatever it was to stop. That she knew.

She spoke first.

"Think we might gonna need to talk." She smiled shyly at him.

She cursed under her breath. Her mood not the best. Frustration running through her, and she knew there really was no avoiding it anymore. It really, she thought, had come to this. Definite drastic measures were needed. This was totally gonna happen. And so she stepped off the bus one stop earlier on her way home and called into her local corner shop. Tonight, as alcohol was the last thing she needed, was gonna be a two bar night. Good old faithful Fruit and Nut, with a sharing sized bar of Caramel on the side. Most girl's crisis comfort food, and that's just what Molly felt like... in crisis.

Her head was spinning by the time she'd let herself into the house she was babysitting for Charles. This time not with the alcohol, but with the conversation they had had that afternoon.

He had agreed that they needed to talk and she believed that this was it. The talk. The thing they had been dancing around. No more does he, doesn't he, like me? Instead she thought it was finally the time to expose themselves to each other. She was ready for this, and then he began.

"I've found Bashira." Was his opening line.

"Wwwww..hat?" She choked out. May even have spat a bit of tea out too. He was too much of a gentleman to comment, but she saw him brush away drops from the sleeve of his jumper.

"I know." He grinned. So excited to finally share with her. "That's what Laura and I have been up to. All these months. Looking for her."

"What?" Molly shook her head. This wasn't what she expected. "Bashira? As is soul sister Bashira. Afghan Bashira?"

"Yes." He beamed, and briefly her thoughts were distracted. It had been a long time since she had seen him smile just like that.

"When I was home last time I'd only just started looking for her." He explained. "It was early days, I didn't want to say anything, but Laura's contacts were hopeful."

"Shit." A small giggle escaped her. Her mind was now right on topic and was eager to know more. "Where? I mean how?"

He took it slow. He knew it was a lot to hear all at once, but all the while his excitement was obvious. He filled her in with the details. How it came about. Laura's role in the discovery, her past job working with repatriated citizens, and his drive, all leading them to finding her after months of looking. Months of visiting different centres. Months of not getting anywhere, all eventually leading them to discover Bashira. The girl that had meant so much to Molly and her belief system about doing good, was now living in Italy and doing well.

He produced a thick file which contained reports, pictures, statements all about her. All positive. Living with a foster family. In her first year at university studying languages. Happy. The Images of her laughing and smiling assaulted Molly's heart.

Molly's eyes filled up as she read on and on about the girl who had played on her mind for so long. Whom she had never forgotten, but who, one day suddenly, following further conflict in the area she was housed in, just disappeared. When her and Charles were together they had tried several times to find her. Had used whatever contacts they had, but they were never successful. She thought all hope was lost, especially after her tenuous link, Qaseem, was killed in a car crash early into their search. Molly then had resigned herself to never knowing, and that she'd lost her for good. Yet today in a noisy overpriced cafe Charles was here, and was telling her different.

"As soon as I knew where Laura had worked, her role." Without waiting for a reply from Molly Charles just bubbled on. "I knew I had to try to find her."

She looked up from the file, her fingers now gently stroking the pictures in front of her.

"Why?" She asked him. "Why have you gone to all this trouble Charles?"

"For you Molly." Was all he simply said.

She nodded her head in understanding and let the tears fall.

"Thank you." She replied.

They talked a bit longer. Both delighted and excited by what they knew. Plans for Molly to write, to make contact were discussed. They talked carefree, happy and so in sync. She took a moment, sat back, and listened. His kindness, his actions in doing something so laborious, just for her spoke volumes. And so as they sat there chatting she'd expected that they'd move on. Step over the incredible news about Bashira and talk about them, but they didn't.

They both choked. Whether the occasion or the joyous tidings was the cause it didn't matter; neither moved themselves forward. She tried once or twice to initiate something anything, but he pulled back and she closed off from him. Annoyingly that's all Charles saw. Her recoil and not her effort, and so after answering all of her relentless questions about Bashira, he left her alone. He left her alone because that's what he thought she'd want.

Opening the front door she made her way to the front room. She was officially off duty. Rooting around under her jumper she un hooked her bra, pulled it through and flung it on the edge of the soft chair. She was no longer on parade, and the freedom felt so good. Bra less and with guilty treats, she began her evening. As she sprawled out on the settee with her cup of tea and her chocolate therapy she didn't know how to feel. He had done something so selfless, so kind. Had put in so many hours and miles to do this. To do something that meant so much to Molly. That she thought he must care, but when the time came to talk about them he'd walked away.

She was certain now she knew she loved him. Had never stopped. The joy she felt when she learned that Laura was just a friend made that very obvious to everyone of her senses. She was certain that she enjoyed having him back in her life, but she was also certain that this time they were very different people from before. It wasn't a case of them giving in to their physical attraction, their hearts were too fragile for silly impetuousness. They had to tread carefully.

Maybe she thought, that's what he was doing. Or maybe he was just scared like her and didn't know how or where to start again. Or maybe he just didn't feel the same any more. She was reading it all wrong. That maybe Charles, who hadn't said he loved her in over five years, simply just didn't.

He stepped out the taxi with purpose. He'd berated himself all afternoon for leaving her so suddenly in the cafe. It had all just been too much. To intense. He thought she was probably just feeling things out of gratitude for what he had done in finding Bashira. Happy with what he'd told her, temporary in her feelings for him, and Charles couldn't cope with that. That it might not be real, lasting. And so he ran away.

He buried his head into his site visit and avoided her for the rest of the day. Returning to the hotel to catch his roommate, Pete, leaving for a pre-dinner drink and suggesting he joined them.

The rest of the bunch were in a happy mood. Their jet lag overcome and a city to explore. Charles had no intention of joining then, he was too conflicted about Molly.

"What you doing here still?" Laura asked as the others waited for Emma to come down. "You're not seeing Molly tonight?"

He sadly shook his head.

"Best not." He replied. "It's all getting a bit complicated." He admitted.

"How?" Laura laughed. Then thought. "You know for a while there I though she hated me." She said.

"Molly?" Charles asked. "Don't think she really hates anyone... apart from Georgie maybe." He said quietly.

"Exactly!" Laura said. "She seems a lovely girl." Then slyly offered. "You know she thought I was your girlfriend. Quite flattered actually!"

Charles looked at her with shock.

"Yeah! She said."

"Yes, but what you didn't see was how relieved she looked when I told her I wasn't!" Said Laura and she pecked him on the cheek good bye. "Have fun Charles!" She said with a self-satisfied grin on her face.

Before he knew it he was in a taxi. On his way to see Molly. Thinking over Laura's words. Hopeful. Hate from Molly equalled emotion. Jealousy from her maybe equalled she still cared. Charles needed to know.

He knocked on the door and grinned as he heard her shuffling along the corridor. Knowing she'd be wearing a pair of stupid novelty slippers that her family bought her every year, which made it difficult for her to walk in.

"Hello?" He said cautiously as she opened the door. "Can I come in?"

She greeted him warmly and he followed her to the sitting room, as she happily led the way.

He started laughing as soon as he saw the sitting room.

"Brought you this." He laughed as he turned to her and showed her the chocolate bar he'd brought. "But I see you've already started without me." He nodded to the half-eaten chocolate bars on the coffee table.

She grinned at him shyly as she knew he knew the reason why there was a need for chocolate in her life at this very moment.

Her shy grin soon turned to horror and a red face as she first head his chortle and then saw him throw his head back in total amusement.

"Some things never change, do they Dawes?" He very ungentlemanly nodded his head to her abandoned bra, lying there in plain sight. "Clocked off for the day have you?" He teased, but secretly loved the fact that she was still the Molly from old. Still the Molly he knew.

She snatched it up and he took pity on her. Turning he looked at the paused chick flick on the screen and he groaned, shrugging out of his coat.

"Oh Hell. It's worse than I thought." He dumped himself down on the settee, with an air of sacrifice.

She felt embarrassed. She knew he remembered that soppy movies were her default activity when she was upset. Chocolate for confusion, chick flicks for tears, that used to be her mantra when they had lived together. She hated showing her weakness to anyone, especially him.

"What you doing here Charles?" She asked defensively.

"I think I've come to save you." He snapped off a bit of her chocolate as he wiggled himself comfortably into the cushions. He ignored her tone. His actions were braver than he really felt. "From death by chocolate by the looks of things."

"Ok!" She slowly sat down next to him. Then turned. "What's the real reason Charles?"

"Wanted to see you." He said. "Spend some time with you." Then quietly as his confidence momentarily slipped asked. "Is that ok?"

"I guess so." She said a lot calmer than what she felt, and picked up the remote, restarting her rom com. "But we're watching this."

"Oh for fucks sake." He laughed and beamed as he saw her giggle too next to him.

It suddenly felt very comfortable. Until it wasn't.

Of all the things to happen. She cursed her body.

He grabbed the remote, and stared at her. And hour of watching the movie was enough for any man, and now her stomach growling loudly at him was enough of an excuse for him to turn it off. She flushed a delicate colour of scarlet that he couldn't help but chuckle at as the noise continued. Her stomach always happy to loudly protest when it needed attention.

"So Dawes. Apart from eating almost your entire body weight in chocolate, I take it you haven't had supper yet?"

With the shake of her head, he jumped up from the settee and forgetting himself he pulled her with him. Her body gently slammed into his as they shared air.

He stepped back, but not as quickly as he should have. He enjoyed the contact too much.

"Right." He grabbed his coat. "I'm getting us take away. You set the trays up." And before she could reply he was out of the door.

He hurried out; it was all too right with her. They had slipped into a comfortableness that he had yearned for. He couldn't, wouldn't let it slip away from him, but he needed to take this slow.

He needed to know if this was what she wanted.

He looked around the room amazed when he re-entered a while later with a steaming bag of Chinese food. She had transported the room back in time. The soft side lamps were on. The coffee table set up for the food, and on each side of the floor she had placed cushions for them to sit on. Just how they used to do it in the olden days. In the early days when they couldn't get enough of each other. In the early days when they preferred their own company rather than that of others, this was how they used to sit, to enjoy each other's company.

She caught his stillness. Worried she'd gone too far.

"Is that ok?" She asked her voice laced with worry.

"It's perfect." He said as he tuned to her and felt the relief she achieved with his words.

They sat and ate. They laughed, they joked. He teased her and she teased him. The food was secondary, the company was the real delight.

"It's good to see you laughing again." She hesitated to start on a subject that could ruin everything. "You stopped for a while."

"I did." He agreed. "And I'm sorry."

She held up her hand taking another ill-advised sip of wine.

"Don't Charles." She demanded. "You've explained. I understand. We don't need to go there again."

He looked at her with dark questioning eyes.

"I'm sorry too." She said directly in to them.

"You?" He spluttered out. "What you've got to be sorry for?"

"I guess I wasn't good enough." She answered bravely. "I wasn't good enough to help you. Good enough to be enough for you when you were going through all that shit. Guess I wasn't good enough for you to keep on loving me."

With her final confession he shot forward, still on his knees in front of her. He wanted to reach out to hold her, but he didn't.

"Never Molly. Never say you weren't good enough." He pleaded. "You were everything. None of this was your fault. None of it."

She held on track. Didn't crumple.

"You got lost." She said. "I think I contributed to that in someway."

"No Molly." He stood. Paced the room. "It wasn't you. It wasn't us. It was all me."

"Yeah?" She stood too.

He turned away. She knew she'd messed up their happy night up.

She walked up to his stilled back and slowly touched his arm.

"I lost you." She said quietly. "And cause I saw that, I had to let you go. Hardest thing I ever did, but I knew it's what you wanted."

He snapped round.

"It wasn't. It never was. I just couldn't do anything about it. Wasn't brave enough to tell you. I never wanted to lose you in all this. I loved you Molly."

"Yeah. Guess you did once." Her arm slip gently up his and he moved to slid his around her waist and pull her in to him. "I loved you too." She finished as she felt her head rest in his chest. "So much."

"How did we fuck all this up Molly?" He asked.

She said nothing. Couldn't. Her heart stopped words from coming out, instead sank her head further into him and squeezed him tighter as she felt his lips kiss her head.

"God Molly. I'm so sorry you ever thought I stopped loving you." He whispered as they clung to each other. "I never did. Not once. Still haven't."

It was enough for now. She'd spent too long doubting he'd stopped loving her. That somehow she was to blame for it all going to shit, but not here when he held her like this. Held her in his arms and she knew she had heard the words she needed to hear. That it wasn't through lack of love that had torn them apart.

"I think my dim sums getting cold." She mumbled into his chest after a while.

He rocked back with laughter, and released her. Gallantly out stretching his hand to lead her back to her cushion on the floor.

They smiled and shy giggles continues as he poured them more wine.

"You're still the best Molly." He offered as they clinked their glasses. "Still the best."

She accepted his toast and praise, very much aware of the girly excitement that was building in her stomach. Feelings of something new starting. Feeling of desire and excitement.

The night continued, and then by the look on his face she thought she ruined it all. Her and her stupid mouth. He looked frozen.

The words had slipped out too quickly and with little thought. They had spent the last few hours so relaxed with each other. More wine, was drank, but not too much, and more chocolate was consumed. They were both satiated and simply happy. Enjoying feeling full and each with each other.

So when the words slipped out she hadn't expected his response.

"So do you want to stay over then?" She had asked.

He pulled himself around enough to try to answer.

She instantly knew what she'd said, and how he could interpret it.

"I mean in your room and that. Me in mine." She rushed on. "It's late. Just makes more sense I guess."

He considered it for merely moments.

"Think I best go." He said. "One walk of shame home at my age is enough. Thanks though."

She hadn't meant to say it. She was bitterly disappointed that she had. She knew she had just signalled the end to their evening.

He stood and started to help clear the dishes.

"Don't." She said. She fussed around the plates. "I'll do them when you go."

He took her que and reached for his jacket.

"So?" He said as he stood there. She followed him to her front door and the harsh light of the hallway made everything feel very different from the cosines of his front room, and the last hours they had spent together.

"So?" She said as she dug her hands into her jeans pockets and shifted on her feet. Her head looking down and mouth twisted in thought.

"I had a good time Molly." He said. "Thank you."

And she looked up and smiled.

"Bit awkward ain't it?" She braved. "This. Saying good night and that." She raised her head almost as a challenge to him.

She caught him looking at her oddly.

"I'd..." Then he stopped and ran his hands through his hair. "No. It doesn't matter." He finished.

"What?" She asked of him. Almost demanded. "What were you gonna say Charles?"

There was hope in her heart.

He thought her eyes were almost begging his.

"I..." He began again. "I was going to say..." He stumbled on. "I'd very much like to kiss you Molly."

He saw her eyes shoot open wide with surprise, but he didn't hear her say no. In fact if anything he felt her shift slightly forwards again and her chin lift fractionally higher.

So he did just what he had wanted to do for so long.

He leaned slowly forward, dipped his body slightly towards her, and then he place a soft hesitant kiss on her lips.

He felt the thrill of their coupling run through him like an electric charge, and enjoying it too much he pressed on and kissed her again harder and deeper.

His arms moved to the back of her head and cradled it. Her arms rested gently on his arms as she raised herself ever so slightly on her tiptoes to press into the kiss more. She proudly knew that she was responding to his kiss with as much passion as he was giving her.

It lasted a few blissful moments and then they broke away with an unspoken consent.

Molly stared at him. She felt sorry for him. She was in no doubt about her feelings that the kiss had stirred up, but the confused questioning look he had on his face showed her he wasn't so certain.

"Was that ok?" He asked with a pained voice.

Stepping slightly back. Not wanting to crowd her.

She pitied him. She need to reassure him. No more hurt is what her heart screamed out.

"Bleeding perfect." Was all she managed to say, but it was enough.


	13. Chapter 13

**Lizard**

**Chapter 13**

"Morning." He mumbled out low and teasingly into her ear as she played with the cup and spoon in front of her. He was pressed up close, closer than he should have been, and he could smell her uniqueness and it made him smile.

"Shitting hell Charles." She spun around and faced him.

They were close. Very close. She was almost enclosed by him as both his hands pinned either side of her. "You nearly have me a Julius Caesar." She shot out, but smiled.

He grinned, like the fool he was, the fool being in love with her made him, and stole a quick kiss from her.

He tried again.

"Good morning." He said softly stroking her cheek with his thumb as they stared at each. "Sleep well?"

She stood looking at him. His hands once again either side of hers as he pressed her up against the kitchen counter. There was little space between them, and it felt good.

She smiled like a fool back at him.

"Yeah! You?" Biting her lip in happiness.

"Perfect Molly." Charles said. "Perfect."

They stayed like that for a few moments more and then slowly the outside world started to creep into their loved up bubble.

He stepped back, and she returned to her tea making. Just in time, as a work colleague entered the staff room kitchen they were in, and oblivious to what he was interrupting sat down and opened his newspaper.

This wasn't the place for anything other than them being professional towards one another. There was so much that needed to be said, but also, finally, so much that no longer needed to be said. The kiss last night had said it all.

He had kissed her. Had kissed her last night in his hallway. Almost asked permission to do so, and she had silently given it to him. The kiss was everything, but that was all they did. All they had no rushing up of the stairs, no ripping off of each other's clothing. It was respectful and considered. It was a start, a slow one, but never the less, a start.

He'd left her soon after that kiss ended. Retreated like the gentleman he was. Yet although he had left her physically, he had not mentally. She thought about him, the kiss, all night. Her mind racing and it took a while for her to fall asleep, but did, and she had one of the best nights sleeps she'd had for ages.

As soon as she woke the next morning he texted her. She had replied. He then called her, and in the early hours of the day breaking she snuggled up in bed, holding her phone tightly to her ears, him hiding away in a quiet spot in the hotel, both were soon smiling and giggling at their conversation. It felt like the good old times. It felt right.

They had agreed that morning that no one needed to know what was going on. That for now they'd tell no one. Both private people, and both unsure at just what they'd say. He was to return back to America in ten days, they both knew that. Then after that who knew, neither wanting to talk about it for now.

So she made her own way to work and had spent most of the morning dreamily looking for him, but never seeing him. Him sneaking up behind her in the staff room kitchen was not what she expected, but she appreciated it all the same.

Mindful of others in the room he spoke low, accepting the coffee she had automatically made him. He stood with his bum half perched on a table. One long leg resting on a pulled out chair, and the other supporting him on the floor. He was calm, controlled for all to see. Only Molly saw the pulled in lips, the eyebrows that dipped and raised themselves frequently. Signs of anxiety maybe, and she could have worried, had it not been for the grin that flashed across his face frequently as he looked at her.

"So I was hoping, dinner, tonight?" He looked at her unsure how he'd cope with a rejection from her now.

He need not have worried.

"Love to." She smiled into her cup of tea to attempt to disguise her delight.

"I could...". He started off, picking at his trousers as though asking your one true love out on a date was a usual occurrence. "If I could come to yours. Mine... that is... and maybe cook something for you? It would mean that we could talk..."

She cut him off as she moved closer to the table. Flicking through a magazine on it, so that if anyone was paying them any attention, they would not realise how important this conversation was.

"Yes." She said quietly but with determination. "Yes please. That would be lovely."

He stood, happy with her answer, and tried to keep his smile dialled down to something on the good side of normal.

"Good." He said. "I know tonight's your late night. I could take your key and get started." He looked at her. "It will be ready for you when you get home."

A thousand little things ran through her mind. About the state of the house she'd left that morning. The dirty dishes in the sink, the bathroom that needed to be cleaned, but they meant nothing compared to the earnest look he was giving her waiting for her answer.

This was Charles. This was Molly. This maybe was their chance to get it right.

She slipped over her house keys and their hands touched longer than necessary, but not long enough. Her stomach flipped and ached for more. She saw desire in him too, and she knew it was going to be a very hard day to bear.

The smell of burning and the swearing worried her. Then the crashing of pans followed. She'd let herself in through the unlocked front door to be greeted by chaos.

As she walked in she saw it all. Smoke filled the kitchen. The counter tops were covered in food, pans and mess. Amongst it all was Charles stood on a chair flapping wildly at the smoke alarm to silence it's screeching. Swearing loudly at it, he failed to notice her arrival, and it gave her time to take it all in.

He looked ridiculous. She couldn't stop herself, and soon the laughter escaped her. Loudly. Happiness and relief at just how, despite it all, how normal it all was.

As soon as she made a noise, and the alarm stopped he noticed her. Standing by the kitchen door way. Laughing. Beautifully laughing at him and his disaster, and it felt good. Her hair fuzzed up by the wind and the rain from outside, still wearing her coat and a bottle of fizz in her hand... she was his everything.

He jumped down from the chair and without a word he silenced her laughter with a deep, bruising kiss. She gasped as he pulled her into him, but she met his kiss with a force and severity of her own. It was welcome and needed.

Eventually he allowed her lips to be freed. Her forehead rested on his and he rubbed his nose gently up her cold one.

"Hi." Was all he said.

"Hi." Was all she said back.

They stayed like this for seconds. Then the smoke alarm shouted its presence once again. Charles grabbed the tea towel he'd been using before, and leapt up to recommence his wafting. Molly rushed and opened the back door and side window. Both catching each other's eyes at the same time and started laughing again.

"I love you. You nutter." She said over the dim.

He heard her words and the smoke alarm magical fell silent.

His face frozen and he held her gaze, stepping slowly off the chair and moving cautiously towards her.

She was equally stilled as her words computed.

Fear and panic trickled down her back, as she felt she'd moved too fast.

"What?" He asked. "What did you say?"

She backed away from him. Set his favourite Rosé champagne on the table and went to take off her jacket. Buying herself some time and hoping to distract him enough to forget she hadn't yet answered.

"Molly?" He asked and gently touched her arm, silently asking her to turn around. "Please?"

She turned. She had taken a step. Hadn't planned to but her mouth only spoke what her heart felt.

"I love you." She said again. This time there was no laughter only seriousness. "I still love you Charles James."

She had no idea how he did it, but before the words were totally out of her mouth, he was there holding her. Embracing her as though she was the most delicate and important thing in the world. That nothing was as precious as she was, and then she knew. Even before he spoke that he felt the same way too.

"I don't know what I've done for this second chance Molly but thank you. Thank you." He kissed her head. "I love you too. Never stopped... ever."

They held each other. Enjoyed honesty. Enjoy a togetherness once again. They held each other for minutes, swaying gentle in to each other bodies as they declared again and then again their love for each other.

"Morning." Was all she softly said into his ear as he stood making himself a much needed coffee.

He turned himself around slowly and pulled her willingly into him.

Glancing at the clock, he growled slightly. It was still very early in the morning. The day after the night before.

"Morning. Just!"

She sighed into his chest, covered by his t shirt from last night. He still smelled warm and inviting. He was right though it was early and she had missed him lying beside her in his bed to keep her warm.

He held her tight and tenderly. Stroking her arms gently. The only sound was of the kettle boiling. She was naked apart from an old sleep shirt she wore. Her breasts pressed against him. Moulded into him, and he was conscious as she pressed harder into him he was standing there only in a pair of boxers that were inadequate at hiding from her how much he wanted her.

"No one has ever fit me like you do." She suddenly said. He'd rested his chin on her head as both their arms clung on to each other's body.

He mummed his agreement.

"I mean... George." She started, and stopped as she felt him tense and any ardour she felt in his arms stared to whither. "No. Wait I mean... George at times felt as though he could be right. Maybe if I'd tried harder. I mean I wanted him to be, cause... we'll just cause... but he wasn't. Wasn't you, and once I realised that I just knew couldn't anymore."

She smiled shyly at him.

"With you... I'm me. You get me. I've never had that from anyone else before, ever." She finished.

"You ok?" He dipped down to look at her ignoring the kettle signalling it had boiled. She seemed so vulnerable.

"Yeah." She tried to reassure him, but failed. He raised his eyes at her and she continued. "Just I'm scared I guess. Don't know where this is going?"

He led her into the sitting room and pulled her down into him as he fell onto the settee. He reached for the throw over and wrapped it around them, keeping then warm from the early morning chill. She giggled at his care for her, and snuggled in tighter.

"I'm sorry Molly. I know it confusing. I confusing you." He brushed her hair from her face. "I just want it to be right. I'm scared too."

She hugged him. She knew he loved her. She knew she loved him, but she also knew that in less than ten days he was heading back to America, and no fixed return date was planned. That confused her, but not as confused as she felt last night when he had made it clear that he wanted to go slow. That he wanted to do this right.

He had said that he wanted to 'woo' her. She giggled, but abruptly stopped when she finally realised he wanted to court her, and not just bed her. And so their night was passionate and but very modest and discreet. Their confessions and reunion not consummated in the modern expected way. Instead they spent the night just holding one another. Baring their souls, touching, but no more.

"It's just been so long for me Molly." He continued. "I couldn't bare to lose you again... I want you to be sure."

She smiled sadly into his chest. She was trying hard to understand. If anyone would have had doubts she would have thought it would have been her, but she didn't. She wanted him, wanted him in a way she had always wanted him, but he said he wasn't ready. He rejected her and her advances last night, and it brought back memories of all the times he had done that towards the end of their marriage. She had felt hurt all over again.

They stayed together for a while longer. Eventually both realising that they needed to get up and start their day. Both reluctant to leave each other's company. There was still so much to sort out. To Molly it had felt like one step forward and one step backwards.

"I just wish you had told me. That's all Charles." Margaret slammed down the place settings on the dining room table. "A little bit of notice would have been nice."

"I know. I'm sorry Mum." Charles hid his smile successfully from the mildly angry woman in front of him. "I just didn't think."

"No ... you didn't. I mean. I would have liked more time to...well...prepare. To get used to you bringing home a fancy bit!"

Charles had to actually bite his lip at this remark. Molly was anything but his fancy bit, but his mother didn't know that. All he had told her, as he visited for the weekend, was that his girlfriend would be joining them. To say Margaret was less than happy about the news was an understatement.

"I haven't made the spare room up even." She countered on.

"That." Charles said helping with the glasses and saving them from Margaret's anger. "Won't be necessary." He said. "She'll be sharing with me."

Margaret rolled her eyes. And said sharply.

"So does she have a name?"

"All in good time mother." And he pulled her in, much to her surprise, for a hug. Mainly because he was so happy, but also to hide the shit eating grin he had plastered over his face.

Held in her sons arms, a rare event, she softened slightly.

"Does Molly know?" She asked. She'd hoped that them working so closely together might have led to something between them. She was disappointed.

"Yes Mum. She knows." Was all he said, and briefly thought about telling her all.

If Margaret noticed Charles' change in mood as the appointed time came for Molly to arrive, she said nothing. Over the course of the afternoon she had grumbled on, and had even asked a few more questions, but Charles still kept the surprise.

He'd spent the last day almost apart from her. His day shorter than hers, and so he caught the earlier train. Her day long and she'd planned to follow on later. He'd missed her, and thought about how alone he felt, even after a few hours apart. Knowing that they had a long way to go, but knowing that whatever his future faced he wanted Molly to be right there by his side. He knew his mistakes would always be there between them, but she'd forgiven him, and he needed to accept that. He needed to appreciate that the pain and hurt of their past could now only make them stronger. And so he knew what he needed to do.

It was closer to nine, than eight, when the front door knocker sounded. Over an hour later than expected and Margaret was starting to struggle to keep it polite. The rushed evening meal she'd made, drying out in the oven. Already her opinion of Charles' new 'friend' was leaving a sour taste in her mouth. Still she steeled herself ready to face their company.

The television and the closed front room door afforded them some privacy. Both nervous.

"Hi." She spluttered out, for as soon as the front door had opened he'd rushed forwards and enclosed her in a hug. She giggled. "Take it you've missed me then?" But she was equally delighted. The past day without him in sight had been hard.

"You could say that." He teased as he released her lips, but still pulling her in.

As he moved her overnight bag into the hall way she saw anxiety on his face.

"Is everything ok?" She asked. Her mouth was dry, worried that it was all too much for him and his guilt.

He dropped her bag and moved to stand in front of her. He stared down and place one hand gently on her shoulder. Slowly he moved his head closer, as though he was going to kiss her. Instead he rested his forehead on hers and held her gaze.

"I love you." Was all he whispered and she saw how much his words affected him as well as her. "I really love you."

She moved her arms to the back of his curls and held him in her arms.

"I know." She stroked her fingers over his neck and just held his intense look. "I really know." And she did. The past few days had been a whirl wind of emotions, but one thing that did hold true was his love for her.

"I don't want to..." He began but his words were stopped short by his mother.

"Charles! Aren't going doing to introduce your friend?" Her voice a lot less friendly than it should have been as she witnessed her son embracing the half hidden stranger in her hall way.

Within moments Margaret's feeling went on a meteoric turn of direction. Initially veiled hostility, which soften when she saw how devoted her boy seemed to be towards the woman he held in his arms. For a second she felt the sadness and regret that he would no longer have that with Molly... and then as Charles' manners kicked in and he turned the woman he held towards her... pure joy erupted.

"MOLLY!" She gasped as Molly grinned and blushed and moved away from Charles' arms into his mother's.

They hugged and both spilt tears. Eventually Charles broke them apart, and Margaret happily let her go. A thousand and one questions followed.

"I think." Said Charles in an attempt to let Molly get her breath back. "My girlfriend wouldn't mind her supper now Mum."

Both women giggled as they moved off arm in arm, but both women's hearts so full as they had noted his use of the word 'girlfriend' to describe Molly.

The rest of the evening flowed well. The wine, the laughter and the happiness of the three. Margaret unrelenting in her questions. Making both Molly and Charles smile, as some they could answer and some they couldn't... just not yet.

"You don't mind do you?" He asked as he closed the bedroom door to his, their, old room. "Sharing with me!"

She looked up from where she was sitting on the bed and smiled.

"No. I don't." She leaned back on her hands. "Is this you still wooing me then? Getting me alone in your room!" She teased.

He blushed. He'd always been the romantic one out of them. The gentleman. She use to kid that she was the tramp compared to his posh boy upbringing, and she loved it. Always had. Loved the way she was so special in his eyes. Never believing that of herself until she had met Charles, and loving that it was him that made her that way. It was one of the many things she'd missed, when they were no longer a couple.

He moved to sit next to her. Mindful of the creak of the old bed they had shared when they had stayed over, and she leaned right in. She hadn't expected a reply from him. Had seen him colour and knew her gentle teasing was taken with the good humour it was intended.

"Can I ask you something!" She began and flashed a hopeful smile as he looked at her. With his nod she continued. "When I came...earlier in the hall way you were about to say something. Before your Mum came through. What was it?"

It took him a few moments. He pulled himself back on the bed, and signalled for her to follow. Shifting backwards she moulded into his arms.

He slowly began.

"For a long time after Rebecca, then Geraint, I didn't recognise myself. It was hard. What I was looking at in the mirror was not anything that I used to be. And then you came along and for a long time, no matter what I'd see, I'd see you, know you, remember you. You brought me back. Stopped me being lonely and mixed up."

He stroked her hair and gently shifted so he could place a finger over her lips. He saw she was just about to speak.

"Let me say this." He pleaded and she nodded.

"I loved that, but then one day. I don't know when it started ... I closed my eyes and I couldn't see you, hear you. I had to concentrate, and then you'd come. Then as time went on I found I'd stopped dreaming about you, I forgot your laugh. I'd had to look at pictures of you to remind me who you were. You were so clear in everything I did, then it went. You, me, everything, and all that was left was silence."

He tipped his head back and drew in a deep breath.

"I wondered then if that's how I thought, then you probably felt the same. That maybe I'd become a man you couldn't recognise either...and didn't love."

He watched as she tried to understand the new confession he was giving. She had no words, so he kept on.

"I stopped trying to remember you. Stop remembering all your silly little things that made you my Molly. Instead I just died."

She clung onto him.

"I don't know why Molly. All I knew was when I closed my eye I saw Elvis. His blacken face and heard Georgie and her cries. That was all. Each and every time I closed my eyes. For over a year, nothing would stop it. It was destroying me, I knew that. It was destroying us."

He paused long enough for her to speak. She'd found her voice.

"I knew that. I saw, and I hoped it wouldn't destroy you." Molly said quietly. "I couldn't let it destroy you, but I saw a man who couldn't be loved by me anymore, didn't want to be loved by me anymore, and so I stopped trying too."

"You left." He nodded. "You got out before I pulled you down with me. I understood that." He began again after a long pause. "I was glad and sad in equal parts. It hurt so much though when I knew it was over, after I did what I did to block out his face, that pain was the first real feeling I'd felt in a long time. And that's when I knew I needed help."

"I clawed myself back bit by bit. I tried every day Molly to find me again…. eventually it worked. Some days harder than others, and then some days I didn't have to try as hard."

It was the most open he'd been for a long time. Some of it she had heard before. Years ago when they first bumped into each other outside the coffee shop on Regent Street, but some was new. And it broke her heart.

"I always thought we'd have a chance again." She sobbed. "That you'd get better, but then when I heard about you and Georgie. I knew it was over."

He pulled her in tight.

"It was wrong. I'll never understand why I did it. She wasn't to blame. She shouldn't have been out there any more than I should have been." He sighed. "Whoever passed her fit fucked up."

Molly shifted. She'd never confessed this before, not to anyone apart from George. Good old dependable George who understood and forgave her for everything. Understood her role in it all, and her guilt.

"It was me." She choked out. "Me who helped pass Georgie fit for going back out there." She watched as his eyes grew wide at hearing her confession.

"What the fuck Molly?" He asked with no hate or disgust. Just questioning. "Why?"

"I thought she'd help you." She defended herself sharply. "She knew what you was going through. Understood." Molly shuddered at how wrong she had been. "She seemed ok, and I thought with her being a medic and that she could have helped. Helped you, helped us. I fucked that one up big time didn't I?"

"Don't." He moved to turn her to look at him. "Don't. It wasn't your fault. Or hers. It was mine."

"No." Molly shot out. "Don't defend her." She couldn't bear that. "I asked her to look out for you. I went to her as her friend, a mate, as a concerned wife, and she told me she would. She told me she'd do it for us, for Elvis. She lied."

Charles shook his head. Reeling at the news that Georgie was there to help, and that even after all he had done to push Molly away she had still been trying to help him. Molly had turned to a friend, a confident, and a colleague, and she had been betrayed not just by him, her husband, but by that person too. The power she had given Georgie to help him had been misused and abused. They had both let her down.

He'd never known that.

"I'm so sorry Molly. So sorry."

She slammed into his chest for a hug and gripped on to the shirt on his back. Clinging on to him. Fearful he'd let her go.

"I'm sorry too. It was my fault... what happened. I should have known better. She was a text book grief case. Transference think they call it." She pulled away and rocked sitting back onto her heels still holding his hands. "That's why I forgive you, cause I'm to blame too. I sent her there. I made her go. Told her to be your friend. It was my fault."

"No Molly." He lay her down next to him. Spooned her as he kissed her head and neck. Calming her as small occasional sobs came from her.

"Not your fault. Never your fault. Mine. All mine."

They stayed like that for a while. Both too bruised to talk for now, and a cathartic lull took over their bodies as they drift off asleep. Fully clothed, on top of the bed sheet, but held tight in each other's arms.

She woke cold and stiff. Hours later they hadn't moved. The lack of heating in the room, and covers, saw them both quickly and silently shed their outer clothes and snuggled tight and close beneath his duvet. Only their underwear remained in place.

"You ok?" He asked as they settled again and the bed started to warm from their heat.

"Yes. You?" She asked back. Their usual rhythm.

"Yes. You're here." He replied, and silently smiled at the half-hearted groan she let out to his romantic line.

They lay close. Her face close to his, their noses occasionally touching. Their eyes smiling.

"I'm back Molly." He said. "You make me me. That's what I was going to say tonight in the hallway. I don't have to try. Not anymore. We've nothing to wait out for. I love you, and I want you. As in I really want you." He stroked his fingers slowly up and down her back as he spoke. She noticed the timbre change to his voice and the nervousness on his face, even in the dimmed light of the night.

She smiled shyly at him, and tried not to act too quickly. Though she had caught on fast.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" She blushed, and was about to continue when she saw the raw confession on his face.

"It's been a long time Molly." He said through a dry mouth. "Since you and I... well I haven't... since the act with Georgie... well there's been no one else. Not once."

She reached out and touched his face.

"Bleeding hell Charles. You're kidding right? That's nearly six years!" Then seeing his shame she stopped her next sentence and held onto his face.

"We don't have to you know? There's no hurry."

"Fuck Molly." He smiled when he realised his choice of words. "I want to. Really want I make love to you again..." He paused and tipped his head back. Eyes closed to hide his shame. "I don't want to wait."

"Ditto. Bleeding ditto." She replied, and they cannoned on to each other's embrace and kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

**A little warning for this chapter. A bit more bedroom detail than I usually write, so it's rating possibly could be M. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Lizard**

**Chapter 14**

Charles held her face tenderly and leaned in for a kiss. He felt his body slightly tremble as his tips touched hers, but he didn't worry about how it felt; it felt as though he was coming home. He was unsure if the tremble was because of his nerves or because of hers, and the way her body reacted to his; but it didn't matter. Either way the kiss was short, and so very gentle. He slid his eager body even closer to hers, and she did the same with hers. Pressed up against each other's soft and warm bodies, they began to move in tune with one another's needs once again.

He moved his head so he could read her face, and was relieved when he saw it still invited him in. Her eyes calling him back to kiss her again, and again, so he did.

As before he started slowly, and his lips possessed hers and his tongue began to delicately seek hers out. He heard her moan, relished the thrill it gave him and it made him less gentle. Somehow his hand had moved from her face and now found her back and he held on to her warmed skin. The feel of her nails slowly starting to rake up and down his back caused him to push his kisses deeper and further, making his hardness twitch and drive him on even more.

He found the straps of her bra and one at a time lowered them, then moved to tackle the claps with expert fingers that he'd forgotten he possessed. She shrugged the bra off, and as the fabric fell away almost silently from her breasts he was powerless to do anything but move his attention to them as his mouth sucked and pulled on her erect nipples. Her back arched into his kisses and administrations, and confidence bounded through him. This was his Molly, he knew her and her needs, and so he move his hand further down her body, between her legs, to her existence and stroked her.

The sound of his name coming from her lips pleased him, a sound he had so desperately missed. He felt the utter bliss of being here with her again, of being once again allowed the privilege of her body. He revelled in the honour as he felt her body twist and writhe on his touch and kisses. Charles savoured how he was once again allowed to hear the moans and purr like noises she made because of his work.

He was hard, so very hard, and desperate to enter her, but he wanted her to have this. He wanted her to be the first one to take ecstasy from their union, so he continued. Moving his fingers around in a pattern he remembered she like, the dipping in and out of her soft folds and walls, like they were old friends that never should have been parted.

He worshiped her, in between the moments of adoring her. Her body had changed very little over the years. Not that he cared, knowing she still kept care of herself. Still young, still toned, but that wasn't what aroused him the most. What was taking him almost to the point of no return was the way in which she was still his Molly, in sound, taste and touch. Nothing had changed. Her excitement and response showed that she responded to him just like she had always done. It was more, he believed, than he deserved.

It was the pulling of his hair and the bucking her body that stopped him from kissing her. His finger continued to pleasure her, but he tore his lips from her body because he needed to look. He need to see her at her peak, at her most vulnerable, at her climax. He wanted to watch the glorious, rewarding sight of his Molly coming apart under his touch once again.

He wasn't disappointed within moments he saw the agony and ecstasy move across her slightly damp face. Then the pause she always had, as though considering. Next the moment of almost pain as she relented, and then the pure joy as she climbed high, soared for a while, burst through, and then began her exhilarating decent. He watched it all and almost surrendered himself at the mere sight of her.

Her breathing stuttered, and her body released all its energy, and she allowed herself to be held. And so he did. He held her tight and whispered words of love to her throughout. He rested her head on his chest and half covered his body with her limp one. She was unable to do much more. Barely cognizant.

He knew the answer but still he asked.

"You ok?"

She move her head slightly to confirm she was, but that was all. She needed a few minutes to recover. He understood and felt pride that he's made her this way.

She surprised him though when she spoke.

"That was..." She moved her head slightly from his chest to look at him. "Thank you." She smiled at him. Face still flushed, and lips bruised from his love.

He grinned at her and almost would have left her alone to recover more had it not been for the desperately real ache he now physically felt for her. His desire to have her, pulsing through every tip of his body. Singing out to him for them to make love, and it was starting to become painful. He moved her towards him and beamed as she sparked back to life, understood his desire, and moved her hands down to divest him of his underwear. Her lips now moving fiercely against his, her desire for him equalling his for her.

He flipped her over onto her back. She wriggled out of her pants and their bodies rubbed together. She reached down between their frantic bodies and took hold of him. The feeling of her touch on him was painfully exquisite. Hard, so very hard, and soft, he fitted into her hand perfectly. She moved her hand several times and he actually growled in her ear. Pure animalistic pleasure.

"Condom. Condom. Quick Charles." She pleaded.

He pulled away.

"What?" He was confused as he stared down at her.

"We need a condom." She said with slight irritation. "Grab one quick for God's sake." Not enjoying his delay.

"I don't have any." He admitted sadly catching on. "Thought you were covered. Do you?" The worry in his voice hard to mask.

He knew the answer before he heard her curse and saw the resounded shake of the head.

"Fuck. No. I'm not on... haven't needed to... no need for me to be." She tried to explain.

The harsh reality of the situation hit him like an ice bucket being thrown at them both.

"Fuck." He snapped out and rolled dramatically onto his back. Both lying side by side panting with exertion and slight anger at their situation.

An awkward, regretful silence hung between them as they both stared at the bedroom ceiling. Then suddenly Charles shot out for bed and rushed to find his clothes.

"What you doing?" She asked confused as she watch. Unhappy with the reality they were facing.

He'd located his trousers and socks, and jumped into them.

"This." He looked over his shoulder at her as he dressed. "Is not happening. Not now." He said with total authority.

"So what you gonna do?" She asked. Then it dawned on her as he slipped his jumper over his head, almost ready. Laughing she asked. "You're not serious are you?"

Now fully dressed he moved back into the bed and it dipped under his weight and she rolled into him.

"All those years in the British Army." He teased a loose length of her hair between his fingers. "You'd have thought we'd have been better prepared." He said.

"Sorry." She looked intently at him. "I just didn't think... expect it like... you know."

"Not your fault Dawes." He kissed the tip of her nose. "My fault entirely." He winked. "I was the Captain and it was my job to ensure adequate provisions for my men!"

She laughed at this and kissed him back.

"Well if you put it that way." She smiled at him. Then laid back down in the bed. "On your way then soldier... and bloody hurry back."

He stood up and just before he headed out of the bedroom door she called.

"Charles?"

He turned around and almost abandoned his mission. She looked so beautiful laid out in their bed once more. Yet he didn't, instead he smiled and nodded for her to continue.

"I love you. You know that right?" She said almost with an apology in her voice.

He moved towards her and kissed her goodbye.

"Love you too." He said. "And I defiantly won't be long." And then he was gone.

Molly dropped back into the bed. Smiling as she heard his footsteps run down the stairs and the front door slammed shut. Wondering with a smile at just how spectacularly wrong their first attempt at love making had gone, and how little she cared. It didn't matter, nothing mattered now, for as long as any problems they faced, they faced it together.

She settled down, unsure how long he'd be. She knew he'd had too much wine with the evening meal to consider driving, so she guessed he'd walk there. A giggle escaped from her as she imagined her ex-husband trudging through the cold streets of Bath in the early hours of the morning in search of a 24 hour garage to buy some condoms. It was almost farcical.

Maybe most men would have given up, but not her Charles. She knew he was very much, once again, hers, and once again he'd do anything for her. Including facing the embarrassment of raiding a garage forecourt shop for supplies.

The soft tap of the door startled her.

"Molly dear? You ok?"

She jumped off bed and grabbed some clothes, cracking open the door a fraction.

"Yeah Margaret. I'm fine. Molly saw the worry on Margaret's face.

"It's just I heard Charles leave, fast." She looked anxious. "Everything ok?" She asked, mindful of times gone by, in the dark days, when Molly and Charles had argued and he'd stormed out.

"God yes." She stated quickly, about to explain and then realised she couldn't. "He's just popped out for some... err... you know stuff." And she opened the door wider to invite Margaret in, as a blush rose up across her face.

"Oh!" Said Margaret and then she looked as though she understood, catching something in Molly's face. "Oh he should have gone out." She continued. "We've plenty in the house. Somewhere... I think."

Molly stared at her and said nothing but most have looked confused, and uncomfortable.

"Don't be silly Molly." She pattered her arm lovingly. "Sanitary towels Molly. We've some from ages ago. Probably yours." And she moved to walk down the stairs. "I take it that's what Charles has shot out for?" She look naively at Molly. "Fancy a hot chocolate while you wait and maybe a pain killer?" And then she was gone.

Mutely molly nodded and followed her downstairs into the kitchen. Never admitting the truth.

It took him a while. Longer than he had hoped. He started off with a fast jog to the garage, the excitement and adrenaline keeping him going, but soon he tired. He was in the wrong shoes, wrong clothes. Always better at sprinting than a distance runner, but still he kept on going.

When he eventually arrived at the garage he caught an image of himself in the shop window. Hair wild from running and Molly's fingers. Clothes crumpled and not adequate for the cold night air, and his breathing fast. The flush to his face caused by the exercise doubled as he realised the shop part of the garage was shut and he need to request his provisions through a microphone and small glass opening in the shop counter.

The place was busy, even this early in the morning. Taxi drivers standing around chatting and drinking coffee to keep them awake. Party goers passing by and grabbing a microwaveable hot something to help with their stagger home.

And then there was Charles. A mis planned, mis calculated lover in need of condoms, having to publicly announce it to the prime elderly lady behind the glass.

The embarrassment at asking for them was only increased by him having to repeat his request twice, louder each time, only to be told they only had a pack of three left. He took them. Threw his money onto the counter and once again, but faster this time, jogged home. Slowly his embarrassment stopped and laughter began. Molly was worth it.

Almost an hour later he quietly opened the front door, surprised to hear talking from the kitchen and the lights on downstairs. Pushing open the kitchen door he was greeted by the sight of his mother and Molly curled up together on the couch, talking and drinking hot chocolate.

Margaret was the first to speak as he entered.

"Did you get them dear?" She saw his confusion. "Molly said you needed to pop out for supplies."

Charles stood with wide eyes and could only manage a weak yes.

"Good." She replied. "Thing is you should have knocked on my door Charles." She continued. "Your father and I have had some in our bathroom for a while. Never mind you know for next time." And with that she blew them both a goodnight kiss and closed the kitchen door as she left. Muttering something about Paracetamol as she went.

Molly threw her head out laughing, his face was one of horror. He stood stock still, and despite her laughs she managed to make it over into his arms.

"What the fuck?" He asked her. "You told her?"

Through tears, at Charles awkwardness and horror, she managed to shake her head.

"Tampax. Mate. She meant Tampax." She looked with pity on him. "That's what she thought you'd gone out for."

He let out a small relieved whistle, and laid his chin on her head as he held her tight to him.

"You ok?" She asked, still chuckling into his jumper.

"Will be when my heart stops beating so fast. After my midnight run and the panic I felt thinking my Mum knew I'd gone out for condoms, it may be a while." He replied.

Somehow him saying it out loud made it all the funnier and they both erupted into laughter once again.

Eventually they calmed down. Friendship outing between them. Sexual desire extinguished for now.

"Come on Casanova." She teased. "Enough excitement for tonight. Let's go to bed."

He held her hand and allowed her to gently pull him, like a child, up the stairs. Bone tired now through it all.

As they reached the bedroom and he undressed again, for the second time that night, he threw the condoms into the bedside cabinet. She picked them up and turned them over in her hands.

"I guess the moods kind of gone hasn't it?" She asked.

He kicked off his shoes and grinned at her.

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry." She said. "I should have thought."

He pulled his jumper over his head and sat down next to her.

"No you shouldn't. I should have." He took them off her and pushed them into a draw, out of sight for now. "At least we know for next time." He said.

She laid her head into his shoulder and his arm reached around to hold her to his side.

"Yeah next time." She said. Then without moving asked. "There will be a next time!"

He didn't know if it was a statement or a question.

He merely nodded and moved them both back under the duvet, and settled them both down for sleep.

"You know we will work something out." He said through ragged breaths.

They had both taken the option of any further bedroom disasters and on waking up late went out for a mid-morning run together instead. They both ran fast and hard. They both had a lot of pent up energy to expel.

"I know." She puffed back at him. "I know." She smiled. "No big questions."

"No." He leaned over as she stood directly in front of him, hands on her hips, red faced and sweaty, his Molly, and he kissed her. "That's right no big questions... for now."

It what they had agreed many nights ago. That this, them, didn't need defining. It didn't need an answer or a plan. It needed to be. To take its own course, and whatever came along they'd deal with it. This was their way of protecting themselves. Their way maybe of taking it slower and steady than ever before.

Yet here was Charles, slowly walking back to his mother's house, his arm slung around her shoulder, about to break a small part of that promise.

"I'm going to ask to come back." He said slowly. "From America. End my secondment early."

She stopped dead in her tracks. This wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want sacrifices from him. Not now, not ever.

"No Charles. Don't. Pleased you can't." She began

"I can't what Molly?" He asked as he looked at her. "I can't what? Don't you want me to stop living a life where I pretend I'm happy? You don't want me to stop living every day single day where I regretting losing you?"

"No." She shook her head. "I mean. I don't want you to give up on your dreams... for me. It ain't right."

He chuckled and pulled her on to his side and started walking onwards with her nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

"Molly Dawes when are you going to realise you are my dream." He smiled at her. "If I have you nothing else matters."

He caught her rolling her eyes at his sentiments, despite her smile, and he punished her with a swift tickle as they walked along. Both giggling and half chasing the other as they avoided each other's playful touch. Their happy faces and sounds the epitome of loves young dream for all to see.

They both knew it was going to happen, and it did. The word got out about them. First Sam, then Rebecca, and even Laura. Margaret rubbish at keeping her happy secret. They had nothing to hide. Charles had plans, some he told her some he hid; for now. It was one of his unshared plans that had them have their first mild disagreement.

He'd driven then back from Bath in his car that had been stored at his mother's for the duration. It wasn't until the drive home that he told her he'd insured her on the car again and it was hers to use while he was back in America.

"No." She said immediately. "That ain't right!"

"Why?" He questioned her and noticed she'd pulled her hand from his and had turned ever so slightly from him in the passenger seat.

"Cause. It just ain't." She said and left it at that.

"Bloody hell Molly." He teased. "What's going on? I want to do this for you. It will make your life easier if you have a car. Mine's sitting there all alone. So you might as well use it. Makes sense."

"Does it?" She asked. "None of this makes bleeding sense Charles." She puffed out.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, worried she was wanting to run.

She saw him tense up, and laid a hand on his knee.

"It's just you and me. Well it's complicated." She sighed. "I mean where is it even going?"

"What?" He shot back. "What do you mean? Are you not happy?"

She shook her head.

"No. Of course I am. Happier than I have been for so long." She gripped his knee tighter. "It's just all a bit too fast, too soon... you know. Letting people know. Sharing a bed, sharing a house and now your car."

"You want to go slower?" He asked amazed. It was true they had shared a bed, but still the act of making love hadn't happened. Both feeling too much pressure and scrutiny staying under the same roof as his ever curious mother. "Is that what you're saying?"

She snorted. All too aware at how sexually frustrated they were in each other's company.

"Think if we went any slower mate we'd stop!" Then noticing his spare hand running through his curls, she attempted to explain better.  
"I don't want to depend on you again... materially I mean. Last time... well... I was left with nothing... I've worked hard since then and I don't want to lose any of that."

He turned to look at her, the car briefly stood in traffic, and he swallowed his first response to doubt her love for him. He knew that this wasn't what her outburst was about. It was about Molly wanting her independence, more so in a way than she had ever had before. Something he knew she valued, and so he knew he needed to try to understand.

"Ok." He backed down. "I get it. No car." He smiled as he saw her relax, and that the potential fallout was cleared swiftly up. "But you know I wasn't trying to take over? I just wanted to help."

"I know." She leaned and kissed him on the cheek just as the traffic started to move. "I'm a stubborn bugger I know." Then quietly added. "Just give me time yeah?"

"You're my stubborn bugger though…. but yeah." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles briefly. "As long as it take Molly."

She tried on the dress again for the third time. It was so important that she made the right impression.

It was a week before Christmas and she had been asked to represent the charity at a local meeting. Only her opinion and presence were needed. Initially she had been reluctant to attend, but a two day all expenses paid stay in a rather swish hotel was the incentive for he to say yes. That and the ridiculous amount of persuading her to go from Charles. He told her it was important, both for her and the charity she attended.

She was finally, if not nervously, looking forward to it, after many pep talks and reassurances from him. Besides she mused as she packed her bag, it wasn't as though she had anything better to do with her time these days, and she held back the tears of pity that threatened to come again.

Charles has gone back to America over eight weeks ago. They had talked constantly, Skyped, text. Not a day went by without either of them knowing the intricate details of each other's days. He'd hoped to have been over before now, but it hadn't been possible. Then he had promised to be home for Christmas, but two days ago he broke that dream too. Saying that there was a crisis and he wouldn't be home until after the New Year, and then only for a few days. She was crushed, and she was lonely. She tried to understand, and started to plan for time together in the New Year, rather than dwell on the disappointment of now.

It was hard though. She missed him so much. The last few days of his previous trip over had seen them inseparable. They kept it professional, but all could not have failed to notice her being driven in by him each day, and leaving with him too. His American colleagues were quick to point out that he no longer spent his nights at the hotel, and the tearful goodbye send-off she gave him when it was time to leave, made no one in any doubt.

So the word was out to her work colleagues and his family that they were a couple. The folks at work were unaware of their history, and just saw them as a normal newly loved up couple. Which they were, but still they hadn't committed to each other totally. Stage fright, and the wrong time of the month still meant that this new second go of their relationship was virginal.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, they both knew that, but warm blooded sexually frustrated consenting adults made it grow fonder too! So his news that it would be many more weeks until they saw each other again made her sob with pity and longing.

She had given in on one aspect though, and when she told him he was grateful she couldn't see his face as his smile said it all. It was a small step never the less. She had every now and then started to drive his car, despite her initial protests, pretending it was out of necessity, but secretly loving this gift from him. And so today driving to the hotel out in the country was one of those occasions where she had convinced herself to use his wheels. There was no other way she had silently reasoned for her to get there, and besides wasn't it him who had pushed her to go!

She arrived early, earlier than she had planned, but intended on using the pool and facilities before the morning meeting. Amazed on her arrival just how plush a setting it was, considering it was all about charity work. Taking it in and feeling that in times gone by, and in differing circumstances, this would have been a perfect place for her and Charles to enjoy.

The reception was warm and welcoming and the Christmas music trickled out. It made her feel though even lonelier. Her plans for Christmas still very much up in the air, as without Charles she hadn't want Christmas to happen at all. Margaret had of course invited her over to share the day with her, but Molly felt she needed to go home. A place she had been avoiding for many a month.

Her parents were still oblivious about her and Charles, and she was unsure how or when would be the right moment to tell them. She knew what their reactions would be, and she wanted to avoid it at all costs. The opinions of Dave and her mother would be predictable. And so she had played chicken and had just stayed away, but she knew the time was fast approaching where she couldn't avoid it anymore.

On entering her room she was surprised at how romantic and perfect it all was. The suit was plush, and too much for one. There were flowers on the table, chocolates on the pillow. The lightening soft and seductive. She nearly cried. It would have been perfect if only Charles had been there with her. She grabbed her phone and called him, desperate to share her world with him.

He failed to answer but texted back saying he'd call he back in the hour. She drifted around the large lonely suite and wondered what's to do next.

The bath had been heaven, and the knocking on the bedroom door was perfectly timed as she stepped out of the bathroom. She'd requested room service rather than eat alone in the restaurant. She pulled the hotel robe around her and shook her hair free from the messy bun it had been in while she bathed.

She mumble something not too polite as room service knocked again, and again impatiently. She moved quicker over to the door. Her mood soured as she yanked open the room door.

Her surprised squeal was silenced by his kiss and embrace. Neither said a word. He pushed her back into the room and dropped his suitcase at their feet. The door softly closing was the only sound to be heard apart from the passion from their kisses and the low groans they each emitted as their bodies collided again and again into each other.

Her gown fell partially open as he shifted her backwards into the room and she heard him groan with desire and need.

He wasted no time and lifted her up into his arms. Her naked legs clinging tightly around his waist as he walked himself over to the bed and flopped her down on to it. The robe now fully open exposed all her nakedness. Her skin still damp from the bath and her scent heavenly.

He stood over her enjoying the confused but happy look on her face. He pulled off his jacket and shirt in two quick moves and started to kiss her again before she had time to ask how or why.

Her fingers groped frantically for his belt and once found successfully opened it, and then his jeans, allowing her fingers to reach in and touch him. She heard him hiss as her fingers and hand moved against his hardness and so she pulled on him more. Rubbing the small bead of moisture over his tip as she did. Smiling at her need and desire to have him, to taste him again.

His mouth was all over her. Both their mouths too busy for words, for once. As he kissed her he moved his finger and teased her bud, making her call out. His touch was everything.

She moved her hand up and down his back briefly mindful her nails were biting into his flesh. She heard his sharp intake of breath and eased off, and moved her hands down to concentrate on divesting him of his trousers and underwear.

He assisted her as quickly as possible, as she shrugged totally out of the bath robe. He kicked off shoes and socks and tore off the rest of his clothing. Both now glorious, aroused and naked.

She lay spread out on the bed and willed him on wards with her eyes.

"Is this ok?" He asked and at the nod of her head she pulled him down towards her. "Condoms!" He said and started to move his body away towards his abandoned bags.

She pulled him back to her.

"No. Got it covered. It's fine." She hissed into his ear. The need for him now unbearable.

Charles let out a low laugh as he moved her fallen hair from her face.

"Good girl." He kissed into her mouth. Nothing should ever separate their love.

The almost semi patronising praise of her causing her to irrationally glow with pride and confidence. Yet she understood. Skin in skin was what they needed.

He lowered himself down and between her body, stilled for just a moment and entered her slowly and reverently. Their eyes never leaving the others. Her body was so ready for him, waiting and ecstatic to welcome his length home. She clamped around him as he started to moved purposefully and decidedly inside her. A long forgotten rhythm returning between their two highly aroused bodies. They moved together in utter abandonment and delight. Her body equally matching each thirsty thrust of his.

"Shit Molly I'm not going to last." He almost apologetically called out.

She arched and her body and started to climb at hearing his confession. Appreciating his need to have her and to fill her with his love, she started to let go herself.

"Please Charles." She begged through ragged breath. "Come with me please."

He held his stamina for moments longer, but that was all that was needed. His pace, his drive and the slickness off their coupling soon driving Molly to a peak of ecstasy she had long forgotten, allowed him to drive home and to climax with her.

And so finally after almost six years apart our girl Molly, and her man, Charles James, sexually exploded onto each other's lives once more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Lizard**

**Chapter 15**

"You do remember I hate surprises?" She kissed his shoulder as she lay resting on one looking down at him.

Her smile though told him he was forgiven even if he had forgotten. He hadn't. He'd forgotten nothing about them, about her.

Despite the cold weather outside both were gloriously naked, protected in their warm hotel room. Charles on his back with a smug grin on his face, that hadn't left for a while, and both his arms bent behind his head. Molly lay next to him, close, on her stomach propping herself up on her elbows and watching him.

He laughed at her comments.

"That Dawes wasn't a surprise... it was bloody weeks past being a surprise... it was just fucking inevitable." He said through a large smiling face. "And incredible."

"Yeah well. I'll forgive you." She wrinkled her nose playfully at him. "This once."

They stayed in the happy moment, both still buzzing from their love making. Buzzing from the return of them.

Familiar, but different, and very new and exciting on so many levels. The past hour had been nothing she had ever known them to be like before, and it was just perfect.

His surprise appearance at her door, the lack of words from either of them, only their passion, and the welcome events that followed, were making them still feel off kilter, but so very happy.

She shifted slightly and rested her head on his torso. His hands automatically went down and smoothed her hair. Stroking her locks as she talked.

"I can't believe you're here." She said for the numerous time that night. "Tell me again, how and why?" She begged.

"Ok Molly." He sighed dramatically, but in jest. "For the final time." He attempted a sternness but didn't pull it off, and smiled at her as he heard her giggle "I'm here for the meeting too. Then I'm all yours." He moved one of her hands to his lips. "All yours."

"For two weeks?" She confirmed. "You'll be home for Christmas?" She tipped her head and rested her chin on her hands still using his toned abs as a resting board, looking towards him.

"That's right. Have to be back for New Year's Eve mind you. Big party to go to." He added. He watched her face change.

She tried not to be disappointed. Tried to hide it. Two weeks together was better than the prospect she had been facing just several hours ago.

"A big party?" She said with an absent mind. "Sounds nice." She feigned an interest.

"Oh it is." He looked down at her sprawled out against his stomach. Hair wild and tangled to the back and he tried to smooth it out for her. "I heard about it from last year. It was amazing apparently."

She raised her eyes and attempted a smile at his excitement.

"Of course you'll need a dress." He continued casually.

It took but a moment before she understood what he had just said.

"Me? A dress?" She knelt up alongside him as he rolled onto his side. "Why?"

"Well I kind of hoped you'd be my date!" He grinned back. "Kind of banked on it actually. Bought the tickets and everything."

"What? Thought you said it was in New York?" She questioned.

He knelt up next to her and took both hands. Looking at her face waiting out for his next words. She was half way there he knew. She understood but was waiting for him to confirm all the details.

"You. Me. Together. In New York. New Year's Eve. Party." He said deliberately. "Sounds like a plan?"

"I..." She stuttered. "I can't! Can I? I mean what about work... and the flight...and everything?" She shook her head trying to make sense of her thoughts.

"Yes you can." He moved a hand to touch her face gently. "Work's sorted. Tickets...well they are my Christmas presents to you... well and to me I guess... cause I get to spend even more time with you." He smiled. "So you very much can Molly...if you want to."

"Course I bleeding do." She shot back. "How long?" She asked.

He wanted to say forever but knew what she meant.

"You've 10 days leave booked." He said. "You have to be back at work on the 9th. Is that ok?"

"Shitting hell Charles." She leaped up with glee. "That means we've over three weeks together. And I get to see New York." She bounced on the bed and he'd never seen such a glorious sight before.

He pulled her down though into his body and lay next to her.

"Do you think you can put up with me for that long?" He asked.

"Mmmmm." She looked as though she was actually considering the question. Then ran her finger down his nose. "Think I'll cope." Then placed a soft kiss on the tip.

He bit his lips and shook his head in amusement at her reply. Then his whole demeanour changed and with a quick flip he had her pinned on her back, and started to show her once again how much he loved her.

She felt exhausted and knew soon her eyes would close. The past two days had been overwhelming. Plus Molly ached everywhere, her head hurt and gradually she became more and more bone weary. She blamed it on the excitement, the fantastic sex, the alcohol, the food, and the very little sleep they both had not gotten. She managed a small smile as she remembered that they played very hard and worked hard too.

The meeting, as promised, needed little input from her, but she was surprised to see just how big a player Charles was in it all. He gave a good presentation, and then worked the room socially. His confidence, she realised was very much back, and she relished seeing him back with power. It thrilled her slightly. She saw traces of the old Charles, but also the new one. His ability to fit in and make those he was with at ease a lesson he had learnt well. Throughout it all though he had kept her close, and in their private times had adored her repeatedly.

Now they were on the way back to his... or hers... anyway the house she was house sitting for him, and she couldn't get there quick enough. Finally the weekend was over, and all she wanted was her bed and to sleep for a long long while.

She shivered as he pushed open the front door.

"Cold?" He asked as he moved to take her coat off while also checking the radiator for heat.

"Yeah. Just want to hit me sack for a while. Is that ok?" She asked staring into his eyes, which also were showing signs of weariness. The jet lag and the bedroom athletics catching up on him too.

He pulled her into him and sighed into her warm hair.

"You go up." He kissed her and moved his head to signal the stairs. "I'll make us a hot drink and bring it up."

She pecked him innocently on the cheek and moved up the stairs. He watched her go. He stood with one hand holding onto the banister and the other resting on his hip, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky once again.

Carefully balancing two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a packet of biscuits he pushed open his bedroom door, and stopped.

Molly wasn't there. There was no sign that she ever had been either. The room was just as stark as it had been before she came back into his life. He walked to the cupboard and slid the door open with his foot. There were no signs of her clothes there either. The room was devoid of anything that was Molly

He placed his wares on the chest of drawers, surveying the cold empty room, and turned, surprised, when he heard her coughing coming from the spare room.

Gently he pushed open the door to see her clothes abandoned on the floor, and her form deeply snuggled under the duvet.

"What you doing in here?" He asked. Trying to keep it light.

"I'm in bed." She said. "Told you I was coming up." She peeked out at him confused.

She slid over slightly on the single bed to allow him to sit down next to her. When he didn't and just stood stock still in the door way, she lifted her head slightly.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Why are you not in the other room?" He asked. "Our room? Our bed?" He knew he sounded hurt.

She flopped back down dramatically.

"Your bed." She pointed out. "This is my bed." And patted the empty space requesting that he sat.

He sat down on the very edge of the bed and looked at her.

"It just I thought after... when I left." He stumbled. "That you'd sleep in our bed again."

She looked at him.

"Didn't seem right." She croaked out, her throat dry and sore by now. "Without you."

"I don't understand?" He shifted to sit closer to her and she grabbed his hand as she could see the beginnings of hurt and confusion on his face. "What's wrong with that bed?"

"Charles? Let's not make this something?" She asked. "It just seemed wrong, me in there, your bed. Without you. I mean I didn't know if that's what you wanted." She had started strong and ended small and quiet. Her vulnerability showing.

He leaned across her, arms supporting him either side and hovering above her as he still sat turned by her side.

"Of course I do. I didn't think I'd have to ask." He held her hand. "I want you in my bed forever Molly. Whether I'm there or not." He appreciated the weak smile she gave him as she realised how tired she was. He didn't push further, instead he pecked her on the forehead to show her it wasn't an issue anymore. "Shit Molly you're hot." He said as soon as he did.

She let out a tired snort. "Thanks... but I'm not." She shook her head. "I feel rotten."

"No. I mean really hot." He stood up and pressed his hand against her forehead. "As in burning up. How you feeling?"

"Like shit." She said pathetically and shivered again as he left the room.

It was moments later when he reappeared, carrying water, painkillers and a cold flannel. He took her temperature and confirmed what she already knew. She was poorly.

And so that was how Charles spent the next couple of days. Not romantically as they had both hoped, but playing nurse maid. Looking after Molly. His Molly who rarely became ill. In all their time together he could only remember her being unwell once before, and he hadn't liked how worried it made him. And here he was again, caring for her, and so it was rounds of medication, cold flannels and bedding changes that took up his days.

Molly moaned and grumbled through it all. The windows to the small room were thrown open to help to reduce her fever, and then were promptly closed again to keep her warm when she protested too much. He supplied her with cool drinks, that were too cold, to help her throat, and hot soup, that was too hot, to feed the flu she was obviously suffering from.

The next few days were a blur for him, as he shopped, cleaned and cared for her. Explaining to her work and his family that as Christmas was in two days' time there was little chance of them seeing her for the main event, and therefore him.

He spent his time watching her when she slept, and dreaming of a life they maybe could have once again. He was happy to take anything she was willing to give him. Even happy to take the grumpy, sick, complaining Molly.

Molly woke from a deep sleep. Her aching bones, her temperature needs and her general stuffiness had meant sleep had been sporadic to say the least. Therefore, still tucked up in her single bed in the spare room she was instantly annoyed at whoever or whatever had woken her.

It took only seconds for her to understand what she was hearing, and it wasn't good news.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and she had been forced to call her parents letting them know she wouldn't be coming home for Christmas. She used her flu as a convenient excuse, failing to mention she'd be spending it with Charles instead. She still hadn't told then, and Charles, listening outside the bedroom door as she had made the call earlier in the day, felt more than mildly irritated by the lack of mention of him.

"You! Get out of me way." Dave demanded downstairs and he heard her name being called. "Molly? Molly?"

Molly sat up and moaned out. "I'm here dad. Upstairs."

And instantly her red faced irate father appeared at the bedroom door.

"You gonna tell me what the bloody hell is going on." Dave barked at her.

As Molly struggled to sit up she saw her Mum and Charles hovering behind him. Both worried.

"Like I said." Molly attempted. "I've got the flu and I ain't coming home for Christmas. Sorry."

"Yeah? Yeah? We get that." Dave spat out. "Came all the way over here cause your mother there was so worried about you being on your own and that. Only to get here to find you've pissed us off to shack up with him!" He stabbed an angry finger in Charles' direction.

Charles and Belinda pushed forward into the room. Charles went towards the bed to help her get more comfortable. It took him less than a minute to rearrange her pillows and pass her a drink. Once he was done Molly lovingly smoothed her hand over Charles' and smiled her gratitude at him. He returned her smile with one of love, and automatically pecked her forehead.

They both heard Dave growl at the sight.

"It ain't like that Dad." She began. Trying to mitigate the situation.

"What the actual fuck." Dave spat out as he watched it all. "Are you bleeding serious Mol? You and him? Again?"

"What's going on Molly?" Her mother who had been rooted to the spot and dumb up until now spoke. "What you doing my girl?" Her head swinging between her husband and Molly as she spoke.

Molly saw the hurt on everyone's faces, and felt Charles stand up and pull away from her. She inwardly moaned.

No one spoke. All three of them looked at her for an answer.

"I'm sick. Ok. Got flu." She started. "And Charles is home for the holidays so he's been helping to look after me. "

Dave let out an unbelievable laugh.

"And that's all is it?" He shouted at her pointing his finger at Molly. "That's all. This shit, him that cheated on you, and you're telling me there's nothing going on with him." He leaned close. "You've always been a bloody fool with men, but don't think we are."

"Dave!" Belinda shot out and looked at Charles and Molly in turn apologetically.

She knelt down next to her daughter.

"Tell us Mols? What's been going on?" She stroked her brow like she was a little girl again.

"And it best not be what I bloody think it is." Dave interjected. Shuffling behind his wife.

Molly looked helplessly at Charles.

Bravely Charles began. "The thing is Dave, Belinda. Well the thing is." Charles stuttered on and stopped.

"Oh shitting hell. We're together." Molly shouted. "Me and Charles we're giving it another go."

"What!" Dave slammed his hand on the door frame.

"Mols?" Her Mum began standing up and moving away from her. "Are you? Well I mean... is it?"

"Look I know it's a shock and we wanted to tell you." Charles began. "But yeah." He moved over to sit next to Molly. "We're giving it another go."

"Oh sweet..." Dave stepped dangerous close to Charles and he stood up, almost squaring in front of her father. "You broke her heart. You and that plastic tart. Sent her off to another country, where her heart just broke all over again. What you doing this for, ain't once enough?"

"I love her." Charles said calmly and stepped backwards. "We love each other." He sort out Molly's eyes that were full of tears.

Dave almost softened and turned to look straight at Molly. He too noticed the tears. His words softer than she had heard for a long time.

"You're still me little girl Mols." His eyes seemed to gloss over too and he sniffed. "You're still me baby. He'll hurt you."

She leaned forward to touch his hand.

"Dad. He's explained. He weren't right." She looked at Charles who nodded slightly. "It wasn't him. He was ill. He suffered too."

Dave stood transfixed by her words and the look that past between them.

"He loves me." She simply said and Dave watched as Charles nodded. "And I love 'im."

"I do." Charles confirmed. "I'm so sorry for what I did, but I do love her. Never stopped."

"Yeah?" Dave said angry again. "Well if you really did mate. I mean really did love her then you'd piss off right back to where you came from and leave her alone." He turned to leave. "Cause you mate." He shouted as he walked down the stairs, glaring at Charles. "Are toxic to her and she's better off without you."

Belinda hesitated, was almost going to say something, but didn't and went to leave.

"Mum?" Molly began in a last ditch attempt to clear it all up. "I was gonna tell you. Honest."

"Yeah but you didn't Mols, did you?" She smiled sadly. "And that hurts, cause you always did."

"I'm sorry Mum." Molly said. Sounding like a little girl. "I just didn't know how to."

Belinda too started to leave the room.

"You used to tell me everything. I've always been there for you." She sighed. "Just remember Mols when he hurts you again, and you know he's going to, just remember it will be your Mum who's there for you...again." And with that she left.

As they heard the front door gently close behind her parents they both stared at each other, wide eyed and in shock. Neither of them spoke for a while. Too stunned, then finally it sunk in and Molly burst out crying.

For the past five days Molly had slept in her own bed. Charles had dragged a chair into the room and had spent most of the days and nights dozing on that. He'd looked after her as the flu took hold and made her weak and dependent. Even though she was miserable and frustrated, she still felt special by his care. But now he wasn't here. She'd woken up to an empty room. He was gone, and now all she felt was alone.

After her parents had burst into his home, and shouted at them, she had cried. He held her, and she cried more. She'd cried out of guilt, out of feeling ashamed and she'd cried because she just wasn't strong enough, neither mentally or physically, not too. During all that time Charles had just held her. Hadn't said a word, was simply just there.

She knew she'd dozed off. She knew he'd covered her over with blankets, and she knew she'd woken up to an empty room. His usually resting place abandoned.

Knocking gently on his bedroom door she waited. Pulling her hands through her hair to try to control it into submission, she failed. Yet she did hear a soft noise from the inside of the room that gave her hope, and bravely pushed the door open.

She saw, due to the light on the landing casting a shine, him sprawled out face down on the bed. The covers had slipped away from his body and in the semi light of the room she saw an outline of his naked body and behind. Two perfect peaches glowing in the dark. The muscles obvious on his sculptured back, and his beautiful face half hidden in the pillow. It was evidence of an exhausted sleep. The type of sleep he used to fall into after tours. The type of sleep she was always reluctant to disturb him from, but tonight she knew she had to.

Stepping forward to be closer to his bed she whispered out.

"Charles can I come in?"

Instantly he woke.

"What's wrong? You ok?" Even on waking from his deep sleep his first thoughts were of her. He turned his body over and sat up full of concern.

"Can I come in?" She asked with trepidation. "Bit tatters out here if I'm honest." She pulled her night dress down to emphasise the point.

He pulled back the duvet up from the floor and flicked on the bedside light. Nodding his head at her.

She didn't need asking twice and moved in next to him.

"Missed you when I woke." She laid her head on his chest as he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. She noticed he didn't attempt to hold her.

"Yeah?" He replied automatically. "Needed a decent kip. Thought as you were a bit better, you'd be ok alone."

"Good idea." She said, and that was all.

She desperately wanted to talk, but his coldness towards her stopped her. They stayed silent for a while and eventually he leaned over and turned the bedside light off.

"Night." He said.

"Night." She managed to say out in a normal voice before he shuffled and gently rolled over moving away from her hold.

The silent tears rolled down her face. She could feel he'd retreated from her. That he's taken her parent's words to heart, and they had wounded him. The guilt that he had battled with since his destructive deed with Georgie springing up fresh in his mind once more, and she feared he'd begin to close himself off again.

Of all the scenarios of their first Christmas Eve together for many many years Molly had not expected this one to begin in such a shitty way.

Sleep had kept her from hurting all night, but as she woke up next to his stiff body, the guts and fear came rolling back. And so did the hurt.

"I'm sorry about me parents." She started. She knew he was awake. She was still attuned to his body. "It was just a shock for them that's all." She finished.

"I guess it was." Was his reply, then after a while he continued. "It was bound to be. Wasn't it? After all you hadn't told them about us. About me?"

"I was going to." She sighed. "Just didn't... hadn't. That's all." She leaned up onto her side to look at him. Wondering if he'd moved all night as he was still on his back just staring. "It doesn't mean anything that I didn't you know?"

His head whipped to look at her.

"Doesn't it? Really Molly?" He asked. "There's me telling everyone that I meet about us, making plans, changing my life so we can be together, and you..."

"I was going to tell them." She burst his run.

"And you..." He continued over the top of her. "You didn't even tell your parents about us."

"I know. I'm sorry. I fucked up." She lay back on the bed. Flat alongside him. "Sorry."

"Shit Molly." He sat up and started pulling on his jogging trousers and t shirt. "You hadn't even moved back into my room. Stayed in the spare like a fucking lodger. Like it was something temporary."

And with that he left the room.

She wasn't going to let this happen again. Years ago she'd have run after him. Hotly shouting at him. Demanding loudly an explanation, but not anymore, they weren't those people anymore. Instead she slipped wearily from the bed and headed to the shower. She tried to freshen up, brush her teeth, dry her hair. All tactics to calm her down and to give him space.

By the time she eventually went downstairs, she was unrecognisable from the Molly of the past few days. She had clothes on, and she was wanting to talk.

He emptied the washing machine and looked up at her as she entered the kitchen. Surprised at her being dressed and normal. He raised his eyes briefly to her, but returned back to the sorting. She knew he'd felt ashamed, maybe even angry, and she knew they needed to talk.

Waiting until he stood again, she went up to him and she slotted onto his arms, taking him unawares.

"Talk to me?" Was all she asked.

He moved himself away from her and perched on the kitchen table, staring at his feet.

"I didn't realise." He said.

She was unsure what he meant but so happy he was talking for her. She stayed quiet hoping he'd go on and he did.

"It wasn't just our lives I broke. It was everyone else's too."

She watched as he pulled a chair out, sat and started to rub his leg. The 'bad' leg. The leg that had taken two bullets meant for her, and then the bloody bore trap. She knew it ached in the cold weather, and when he'd been over using it. She guessed the past week or so of looking after her must have put a strain on it.

She pulled the chair out next to him and gestured that he put his leg up on hers so she could massage it.

"Here let me." She offered and he gratefully accepted.

Her fingers expertly helping with the throb he felt. He leaned back slightly and she saw a modicum of relaxation cross his face.

"Go on." She said quietly as she avoided eye contact and concentrated on his muscles.

"The happy ever after. The fairy tale of us." He put his hand out and covered hers so she stilled slightly in her work. "Others had dreams, hopes, beliefs in us. In our lives. When I did what I did, I hurt them too."

"Yeah." She said sadly. Still not looking at him. "I guess you did."

He pulled his hand away from hers. Shocked at her truthfulness. Her bluntness. She continued.

"Mum, Dad." She said. "Thought the world of you. You knew that? They never imagined you'd hurt me. It floored them when you did. That's what last night was all about. They're just looking out for me."

"They think I'm going to hurt you again." He said. Then after a pause asked. "Do you?"

Slowly Molly looked at him and he pulled his leg from hers and leaned forwards. Awaiting her reply.

"I don't know." She began. Wanting to turn away from his painful gaze but didn't. "I mean I guess I'm hoping you won't. Believe that you won't... but who knows?" She asked. "Cause last time I didn't see it coming. Who's to say that I will if there's next time."

"Shit Molly." He jumped up. "Next time? You think I will?" He raised his voice. "You think I would again?" Then leaning in to her close he said softly. "I'd never."

She stayed sitting, clasped her hands tightly in front of her. Looking somewhere over his shoulder.

"You can't promise that." She said simply. "But I believe this time you'll really try not to."

He froze. He knew he'd been forgiven. Thought they were moving on. Amazed she still had doubts. However small.

He moved away from her and fiddled with the washing again. Watching her watching him. Her lip was pulled in and she worried it. Her eyes giving nothing away. Still she was here, with him, and that had to be worth something.

"Do you think we'll make it?" He asked. He didn't want to know the answer but guessed he needed to know the answer.

She stood, moved over to him, and held onto his arms, anchoring him as much as herself.

"I do." She said honestly. He felt the breath he'd been holding leave his body, but she continued. "Cause the alternative is too painful for me to consider." She replied. "I can't live without you. I know that." She smiled at him. "Tried it and failed. To even think I'd have to do it again is...well...unthinkable."

He allowed her to hold him.

"So I'm your booby prize then?" He asked with silent fear, with a voice a lot stronger than he felt. "You tried a life without me, and cause it didn't work, you're going try again with me?"

"No." She said in earnest. "From the moment I met you I started to live the life I was meant to live. With you... I can do that. Without you... I can't. I need you Charles in my life."

"Why?" He asked. "Why forgive me? Why take me back?"

"Cause I love you. You muppet." She stood on tip toes and steadied herself by holding on to either side of his face. "Because you're my everything, and nothing is worth anything if I don't have you in my world. I love you."

He seemed to accept her words, and allowed himself to be kissed by her.

For now he accepted her words, but still there was doubts, and with that first doubt there started a slow germ of fear to grow in his heart that maybe, just maybe, her forgiveness and acceptance of his sins wasn't enough for them to make a go of it.

That maybe they wouldn't make it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry. A long one. Just couldn't shrink I down and didn't feel right in two parts. Enjoy, and let me know if you want more.**

**Lizard**

**Chapter 16**

Their grumpy Christmas Eve turned, with the help of alcohol and some degree of maturity, into an enjoyable Christmas after all. They had both wanted this for too long. And so both tried their hardest in making it work.

Molly recovered enough to partake, and Charles cast aside his worries over her lack of faith, trust, in him to enjoy it all. It was a happy time, some old traditions were kept, while other new ones were made.

She had struggled to know what to get him, had tried hard with his present. Yet in the end it didn't matter, nothing compared to the delight she saw on his face that night as they went to bed.

"It's not too much?" She asked as she fitted into his side as he stood and looked around his bedroom room.

Everywhere he looked there were signs of his Molly. The dressing table once again festooned with her bottles and potions. The bedside cabinet she claimed as hers proudly displaying a family photograph, and her indispensable hand cream. The wardrobe stuffed full and groaning with the addition of her clothes to it.

"No." He said, almost unable to speak due to the smile on his face. "It's perfect. Thank you."

She knew it was a small task. She had done most of it as he had slaved away preparing the Christmas dinner, having banished to a long hot bath. Yet she knew symbolically it meant so much to him, and now she had moved in to his room she found it meant so much to her too.

"You might regret it you know?" She giggled as she flipped off her slippers and dropped her clothes on the floor. She knew he'd hated her mess once before.

He leaned down and collected her clothes as she deposited them. An old habit.

"No." He said with serious under tones. "I won't. Never regret having you in my life. Ever."

She slipped under the covers, naked, and chilled by the coldness of the sheets.

"You won't be saying that when you can't see your bedroom floor." She challenged him.

He threw down the clothes he'd been holding. They dropped everywhere. He started to take off his clothes, and like Molly discarded them around the room with gay abandonment.

"Our room." He said very deliberately. And she happily nodded. "Beside how about a new rule?" He asked.

She looked at him with amused suspicion.

"This time." He said prowling over to her across the bed. "No fucking rules? We can be as messy as we want."

His face was now inches from hers and she leaned slightly forward and pecked his lips.

"Sounds good to me." She smiled happily.

Molly's excitement at their trip and New Year's Eve treat was evident, and only slight damped both their good mood when she insisted on Boxing Day visiting her family... alone.

He fretted all the time she was away. Worried about their influence on her. Yet he need not have worried. On her return he noticed she was low, and clung to him so tight let that he knew, as expected, it had not gone well. He never asked though and she only briefly said. He secretly feared hearing about her parent's hate for him.

Their time in New York smoothed over any cracks that might have been. New Year's Eve was everything and more. Her time spent living in Charles' world enjoyable too. She saw how he lived, how he had been living without her. She saw he'd been safe, sparse, and frightenly alone. She saw how he'd tried, without her, but had only half done so.

He was nervous as he showed her into his small apartment in New York. He knew he was exposing some of the new him to her.

The flat was stone cold when they arrived and both were tired from the flight. He left her to explore the two rooms and bathroom on her own as he rooted in the cupboard to turn the heating up to full. He heard her leave the small kitchen living room and push open the door to his bedroom. It contained a bed, a cabinet and a cupboard. That was all, as there was no space for anything else and so he felt confused when she didn't suddenly reappear.

He pushed open the door and saw her sitting on the edge of his bed. Her hand running repeatedly over the duvet cover.

"I remember this." She said sadly and he realise what she meant.

The duvet and bedding set was something she had fought him hard over to buy. Charles had thought they were ridiculously expensive, and such costs, as they were setting up home together, was unnecessary and unwarranted. She'd pleaded with him but he refused. Telling her they had more important things to waste their money on.

She'd stormed out of the shop feeling patronised and controlled, and they argued all the way home. Her feistiness continued until the next evening when a contrite Charles came home with the bundle of bedding that had caused the argument. He rightly had apologised and vowed he'd never stop her again for buying things for their home. Telling her he didn't care if he slept on £300 bedding set or a cardboard box, as long as she was there to share it with him.

It hadn't been their first row, but it somehow had, at that time, been their most significant one. Charles realising he couldn't control Molly; he shouldn't control Molly. That together they were equal partners in the relationship.

"You should do." He said and he sat down softly next to her. "It took us long enough to pay them off the credit card."

She turned quickly to look at him and he worried if he had teased her about the wrong thing.

"Yeah." She admitted. "Hadn't thought about these for years." She said. "Didn't realise you had it."

"You want it back?" He said. "It's yours!"

"Nah." She shook her head. "Haven't missed it in all this time, so doubt I will now." She admitted. "It's just funny."

"What?" He asked shoulder bumping her to continue.

"Well not funny 'ha ha', but funny." She smiled. "When we ended I just left didn't I? Never thought about what I'd left behind... bits and pieces and stuff."

"Yeah." He sighed painfully. "You're right. It's not funny 'ha ha'. It's fucking tragic... that I hurt you that much and made you run that far... that fast."

She scooted up the head of the bed.

"Still feels nice though." She stroked the sheets, watching him. "I was right though wasn't I?"

He shook his head to show he was unsure what she was saying. Still struggling with the wave of guilt.

"This!" She pointed to the set. "Well worth the money and that. Told you it would last."

He joined her at the top of the bed and she slid onto his arms. He had a small smile on his face.

"I'm pleased you kept it." She mumbled out and very soon she drifted off into a content sleep.

They spent seven happy days in his adopted city. Charles proudly showing Molly off wherever they went, and proudly showing her the sights like a native.

It was like the honeymoon they never had, both mindful of that fact. After their wedding all those years ago, they had plans. Big plans, but Molly's promotion prospects, and Charles' tours interrupted those and so they settled.

They settled on a week away in Paris. Seeing the sights, taking in the culture, enjoying the food. Yet even these plans were interrupted. A bad case of food poisoning floored both them, and their guests, in the days after the wedding. The hot weather and the copious amounts of sea food at the reception was to blame. Either way Molly and Charles' first days as man and wife were spent lying next to each other on a very expensive bathroom floor in the capital of France. It was a long time later, that they both could laugh over what had happened. Yet secretly both always had a huge wave of regret that their new life together had started so very badly.

So her week in New York showed them what they both had missed. Walks, meals out, afternoons in bed, all pushing these two closers into each other's hearts than ever before.

And it broke their hearts even more so when it came time to say goodbye.

Molly was to return back to the UK and Charles was to continue his work in America. The parting was sad and painful. Both making ridiculous promises that nothing would come between them again. Not even the Atlantic Ocean.

And so one wet Saturday afternoon Molly said goodbye to Charles as she walked through the departure gate with one sad final wave.

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asked for the numerous time.

"Charles." She said sternly as she looked down at him via the Skype line. "I'm a big girl now and if I don't want to go out for my birthday then I don't have to."

"I know." He smiled back. "It's just 32.. it's an age to be going out to celebrate."

She laughed.

"Surprised you can remember mate." Her eyes teased him. "Big 4...0 for you this year isn't it?"

"Yes. Well..." He said defensively. "The least we say about that the better."

"Honest Charles I'm fine." She went on. "Bella was to come over, but then some crisis happens. She hardly calls at all now. Don't ask." She said. "Mum reckon she's a new fella. Out all hours. Apparently."

Charles said nothing but noted that at least Molly had been talking to her mother again.

"Anyway." Molly finished. "It would have been nice to see me niece Amy and that. Haven't seen her for ages."

"So your Mum called?" He asked tentatively.

"Yeah, and I got a card." She smiled ruefully at him. "Didn't ask after you though."

Charles snorted, and held off from saying anything else.

A comfortable silence hung over their call, but he noticed she worked her bottom lip.

"Molly." He began and instantly at the warm caring tone he used, her eyes filled up.

"Don't." She half sobbed out. "Don't. I'm trying not to think about that."

He could do nothing but just watch her struggle to pull herself together. He knew how hard this week was for her. Not only the anniversary of her birth, but in a few days also the sad anniversary of her miscarriage. He'd tried everything to be there for her, but it simply wasn't possible.

"Did Rebecca say she called?" Molly tried to act normal. "Invited me to stay with them next week."

"Think Mum mentioned it." He admitted. "Knew you'd say no though."

"Yeah just a bit too... well you know. With me and her being close and that during the pregnancies."

"I know. Molly. I understand." Charles said. "We all do." He moved closer to the screen. "Shit Molly I wish I could be there with you."

"I know. I know." She'd heard him say it countless times over the past few days. She knew he felt guilty. "But it really is all right. This is my thing. A few days of being sad and I'll be fine." She promised him. Too caught up in her bravery to see how hurt he'd looked at her words of exclusion.

They changed the subject. Forced themselves to and began to talk of happier dreams that he'd find out soon, very soon, when he could come home.

Soon though as always happened, the time zone and his need to start his day stopped their conversation. Him wishing her a good night, and her wishing him a good day.

She just managed to hear the phone over the sound of her tooth brush. Grabbing it before she saw who was calling her so late. She knew though chances were it would have been Charles.

"Missing me already ya nutter!" She grinned into the phone as she answered it.

They was silence, then a tentative.

"Molly? It's George. I'm in London. I'd really like to see you again."

She was so nervous. Had made an extra special effort on how she looked, had even started to get ready early, but still she was late and the rain was ruining her hair.

Meeting George again after nearly a year and a half was going to be hard. Especially once he'd unnecessarily explained why he needed to see her. Needed to be with her at the anniversary of their miscarriage. He didn't want her to be alone, and so with his kind heart he'd flown half way around the world to see her. She knew by that selfless act he still loved her, and she knew he always would, but wondered just how much exactly in love with her he still was.

Yet he surprised her still. Their time together was happy and easy. She remembered him as the great guy he was and truly wished him happiness when he told her that him and Mia were engaged. She silently applauded herself at how mature she took the news, and how the only emotions she showed him were those of happiness.

His visit was short, but for both of them it had seemed natural. Closure on what might have been. She knew that as she'd agreed to meet him, and she knew she'd never see him again.

Saying yes to meeting up with him had been an easy decision. She had wanted to see him. To her it was innocent.

However her meting George was not so well received by Charles. He'd always been a jealous one. Which she always felt was ironic, because out of the two of them he was the one never short of attention regardless of the sex.

They'd had the inevitable words about Molly meeting George. Charles suspicious of the grand gesture George was making by flying in to see her. Molly tried to give reassurance, comfort, but soon got exasperated by his petulance that she fired her anger at him.

"Look Charles. He's hurting too." She had snapped. "This was his kid too you know. As well as mine, and we just need some time together to mark this day."

Her words cut him, and she knew and saw that, but still she went on.

"Whatever you wished had or hadn't happened I do have a past with George. She breathed in slowly. "I do have memories, some good some bad. We need this." She said softer. "To say goodbye."

Charles knew as he put the phone down after several more minutes talking that he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help himself. He'd been so excited to call her that night, full of his own news that he was totally blindside by hers. And so he realised that as the call ended that he still hadn't told her that he had a UK return date.

January passed into February, and then into March, both were excited. His return date set for the end of April. His return home would mean nearly four months of them not physically seeing one another. They had of course gone longer in the past, but this time it felt different. When they were both in the Army it had felt right, their duty, but now it just felt wrong and unnecessary. They no longer wanted or need that type of life style. Had tried it once and had failed to pass the stress it brought with it, and so they wished to avoid it ever again.

"Look at this one." Sam laughed as he passed his phone over.

Molly had spent the past half an hour, with her weekend guest, being shown more and more pictures of Charles enjoying himself. She didn't begrudge him enjoying himself, was pleased in a way, but a slow ball of concerned had started to take hold of her gut as she watch frame by frame as he appear more and more intoxicated.

"Looks like he's having a hell of a send-off." Sam laughed as his Twitter page pinged once more. "Those guys know how to party."

For a short time she had hoped that she would have been over in America celebrating with him too, but it was not to be. The conference was his last official duty for the charity over there, but was not deemed important enough or her to attend. Instead they had to wait a while longer until he finally came home. A whole week longer.

"He's going to have a whopper of a headache in the morning." Sam laughed as he showed her a collection of photos, where she was fairly certain Charles was unable to focus in.

Suddenly her phone burst to life.

"Dawesy. Dawesy. Do you know how luch I move you?" He slurred down the line. "Nearly mealy luch." And then the phone when dead.

That was the last she heard of him for nearly a whole day. Though she didn't worry, over the past weeks as his departure day came closer, his calls had got less and less. The business of all his plans the excuse, and she patiently told him she understood. And she did. She loved him.

So three days later she waited excitedly at the arrival gates waiting for him to come home. To their home. To her.

It surprised her as he walked through the door at just how troubled he looked. She'd expected him to beam. Run into her arms. Spin her around with happiness, but instead she saw him slow and reluctant to meet her eye.

"Still hung over?" She asked as she attempted a hug. He was stiff in its return.

"You could say that." He attempted a smile, and tired really tired.

"Come on." She said as sympathetically as she could. Knowing as he got older his hang overs were a bitch for him. "Let's get you home."

The car ride home was in silence. He feigned sleep. A tactic he did towards the end of their marriage. She could almost smell the guilt from him.

As soon as they entered the house she took control. She wasn't going to be a victim again.

"Ten minutes to get your shit together Charles." She rounded on him unexpectedly. "Then your gonna tell me what the fuck is up."

He stared down at her. Not even needing the ten minutes she'd kindly given him. He confessed right there and then.

"I saw Georgie." He spat out. "Shit Molly the guilt is eating me up." He watched her prepare for more of his news. "I saw Georgie." And then he just waited.

To her credit she had calmly took in the news, had listened as she filled the kettle and made herself a tea. She offered him no niceties, apart from her silence. Eventually though he stopped talking and now it was her turn.

"So she just tuned up?" She began. "Just like that? You never knew?"

"Molly. I swear. No. She was part of the Military representation. We weren't given names beforehand." He paced the kitchen and ran his hand through his hair. "She'd been there all day, but only came up to say 'hi' at the night do. My leaving do."

"What happened?" She asked. "What did you say to her?"

"God I don't know." He sighed as he sat down. "I was so pissed by then." He looked at her and knew she needed something more substantial. "She asked how I was? I asked how she was? We both said sorry... and..."

"And?" Molly asked.

"That's all I remember. Think I passed out fairly soon after that. Someone helped me into the cab and saw me home."

He watched as she looked at him assessing him.

"Why you so guilty then?" She asked.

"Cause I told you I'd never hurt you again, and I guess I just have." He answered.

"So did anything happen?" She asked before she could stop herself. She expected him to be mad.

He simply looked sadly at her.

"I don't want to hurt you Molly. Ever. You have to believe that."

"You haven't answered the question Charles." She pushed.

"No Molly. It didn't. I went home, and can't remember anything more from that night. You have to believe me."

She stirred her tea for the numerous time and watched him. He wouldn't hurt her again; he'd promised her that. And she had promised herself that she'd believe him.

The moment it took her to speak again seemed like a life time, but eventually she did.

Her words were soft and quiet. She hoped that her trust was well founded.

"I do." Was all she said and watched as a small tear rolled down his face as he moved in to hold her.

They danced around each other for the rest of the day. Both choosing an early night rather than endure more silences that they couldn't fill. She hoped Charles' suffering was from jet lag and a hangover, rather than anything else.

Eventually she got up and went downstairs. It was early the next morning and he still slept. She couldn't. She hadn't. She flicked through every TV channel they had and found nothing to interest her or take her mind off her worries. Throwing the remote onto the coffee table she startled when she heard his laughter.

"What's that poor thing ever done to you?" He moved forward and sat down next to her, pulling her in closer to him.

Their shoulders touched and it felt awkward.

"So Bella?" He began for need of something to say. "You ever find out what's going on with her?"

"Nah. She's even stopped calling me." Molly snorted. "It's driving Mum crazy! There's a new fella on the scene. Keeps dumping Amy off on them. Sneaking out for nights with him all the time."

"New fella?" He said half interested. "Oh! Bet Dave's not happy?" Charles said diplomatically.

Molly chuckled.

"When is he ever?"

"Guess thought I'm still number one enemy then?" He asked. Not expecting her answer.

She smiled weakly, and they sat in silence. She started to pick at the nail varnish on her nails. Uncharacteristically for her, but she'd made an effort for his return. Preened and gleaned herself up for his home coming. Wild with excitement, with the thought of possibilities, and now she just didn't know.

She needed to know.

"What did it feel like?" She asked tipping her head up to look at his. "When you saw her again?"

She felt his sigh rather than heard it.

He looked at her, and attempted honesty.

"I felt scared." He admitted. "Scared what it would do to us."

She nodded as though she understood.

"Was that all?" She asked. "I mean nothing else."

"Like I wanted to run." He said. "Does that make me a coward? I felt ashamed...and sad." He continued.

"Sad?" She asked. "Why?" Worried he felt regret in seeing her again. Regret that he wasn't with her.

"Cause I hurt her. Hurt you. Hurt everyone." He admitted. "Cause I had a second chance and she hasn't. Can't."

"Did you?... I mean...do you...? Seeing her and that...ever think maybe?" She tumbled over her words as her nails became very interesting again.

"I was drunk, very drunk." He said. "I couldn't process it then. Too shocked, but later when I sobered up, all I thought about was you. What I had put you through and how very sorry I still am." He held her hands to his lips. "She meant nothing to me, not then, not really, not ever...and still doesn't."

She twisted next to him and slid into his lap. She trusted him.

"You know I love you Charles. Don't ya?" She asked.

"I do." He kissed her. "And I love you so very much too."

They developed a routine. A routine that Molly fell happy with but uncomfortable with at the same time. She was delighted he was back. They were together and their relationship was on track. She'd even made some tracks into smoothing things over with her parents. They still weren't happy to see Charles but accepted Molly was determined, as she always had been, and once she set her mind to something there was no turning it.

None of that made her uncomfortable. Nor the fact that her letters back from Bashira weren't as many, or as frequent, as she would have liked. The little girl she had once known had move on, and had grown up.

Parents, Bashira, all of that was bearable, but working with Charles again wasn't. Once more he was her superior, and although the hierarchy of the charity was nothing like the military, she still disliked being in his chain of command.

He knew this. Tried to negate her uncomfortableness, avoided personal contact with her when possible, and basically stayed away.

Still they drove in to work together, and often as not drove home together. Molly mindful of the looks other colleagues gave her as they did so.

She therefore set her mind to changing it. She needed this to work, wanted this to work. They both did, but she was nervous about mentioning her plans to him.

When she did, both snuggled up in front of the TV, relaxed and switched off from work day stresses, she felt relieved.

He paused for a few moments. Then he began nodding.

"Think you're right." He said, popping in a Malteser as he did so. Crunching it loudly. "Best thing for you, and maybe for us."

"You're not mad?" She asked amazed. She'd been dreading this conversation. "Wow!"

He popped a chocolate into her mouth to shut her up. Grinning at her.

"So come on Dawes tell me how far have you've got?"

It had been nearly two months since he'd been back and those two months had shown her plenty of surprises. How Charles had changed, for the better, and this was one of those moments.

"Well." She began. "I've sent off the application. It's been accepted; now all I have to do is wait." She scrunched her face up. "See if I get offered an interview."

He nodded.

"And then what?"

She reached behind the chair for her lap top and fired it up. Allowing him to see all the information she had on there.

It wasn't going to be an easy process, ultimately three years of studying and training, but all within her capabilities. Eventually qualifying as a Paramedic.

"I'll be broke for a while, being a student. But it's what I want." She told him.

"Then I think you should go for it." He beamed at her. "You know I'll help in any way." He said softly, and before she could speak. "I mean after all... the money Dad left you would have been just right for this wouldn't it?"

She stilled. Waited.

He chuckled as he felt her stiffen.

"It's alright Molly I knew from the beginning almost. What Dad did."

"You didn't mind?" She asked.

"No! It was the right thing to do." Charles replied. Then softly whispered into her ear. "And I know exactly what you did with it too!"

At this she turned fully to him. The words stuck in her mouth. Never expecting her secret donation to the charity would be anything but. Yet he didn't allow her to talk. Instead he placed his lips over her silent mouth and kissed her soundly.

"Right then fella." She shouted out as she slammed his front door with a quick kick of her foot. "I've bought half a bloody shop worth of sausages and burgers, so that BBQ best be on."

She smiled as she threw her keys down enthusiastically and moved to the kitchen. It was the weekend. The nights of summer and the weather was glorious, and the BBQ called. An impromptu tea, with a bottle of fizz to accompany it. They had something to celebrate. She had made it through the second round of the interview process for her Paramedic training and it was looking hopeful.

She was so happy, in the past four months her home, her life, was transformed for the better.

She slipped into garden to find it empty, and she turned around she saw him coming out of the kitchen door.

"You haven't even lit it. You lazy bugger." She teased pointing at the BBQ. Then stopped as she saw his face. Serious. Concerned.

"What's up?" She asked swallowing hard.

She watched as he pulled his hands through his hair. A sure sign of nerves and trouble.

"Molly. There's..." He began. But she knew.

She pushed past him and moved around the downstairs rooms. Stopping dead when she appraised the visitor in the sitting room.

Still and waiting for her.

Charles was instantly behind her.

"What's she doing her?" She asked confused. "Charles?" She asked hopefully.

Charles didn't have time to speak.

"Nice to see you again too Mols." Her visitor said. Sarcasm dripping off her tongue.

Molly said nothing, but she took her guest in. Her long dark hair, beautiful styled. Her makeup perfect, as it always used to be, whatever the circumstances. Molly felt grubby and dirty next to her.

It was easy to see their visitor had made an effort today in visiting Charles, and Molly. That she'd dressed up for the occasion, but then she always did, to show off her many charms. Her drawn on facial features were perfect, her clothes demonstrated her figure, and her perfume filled the room.

It had been a long time since they all had met, been in the same room as one another. It felt unpleasant, suffocating.

Molly felt silly and childlike next to her. The knee length cut off denim shorts, baggy Disney T shirt, messy hair and makeup free skin, made Molly feel inadequate next to her. She always did. She 'd come to accept a long time ago that she'd never measure up or come close to the plastic beauty before her. The Army 'dos', the nights out the four of them used to go on, Molly was never the one who turned the men's head as the entered. It was always her.

Charles said he never saw it. He always used to say Molly was the beautiful one, and so when what happen happened Molly was surprised and amazed at how easy the opinions changed.

Again Molly turned to Charles. Sterner this time asked.

"What is she doing here?" Molly waited.

"She's come to see you. Me." He replied with not too much confidence. "Us." He said quieter.

"Why?" Molly asked. Still not addressing her guest.

"You gonna look at me Molly." She asked, flicking her hair angrily. She hating being ignored. She wasn't used to being ignore, and she'd purposely come here today to ensure she'd be the centre of attention once more. She liked that.

"What you doing here?" Molly turned and looked her in the eye. Knowing trouble was on its way. Her presence here today was testament of that.

"I'm pregnant." She said triumphantly.

"What?" Molly spat out.

"About three months." She replied. Shooting her hand over her slightly swollen tummy. "We thought you should know."

Molly's eyes turned into slits, giving her an evil stare.

"What's this got to do with me. Us." She snarled. Afraid to look at Charles.

"Well." She stood up and moved towards Molly. "It's only fair. Cause you know the father. Doesn't she Charles?"

"Look Molly." He began behind her. "I didn't... well it was a mistake... I've only just found out too."

He went to move nearer to her, and Molly let him hold her. To shocked to do anything else.

"When?" She asked. "I mean how?" She felt weak and confused.

"Bloody hell Molly." She spat a laugh out through her lip glossed mouth. "Do I really have to answer that?"

"No. But I don't understand." Molly tried again. Shaking her head.

"Look it's simple. Complicated, someone's gonna her hurt, but yeah it's still simple." She laughed. Then began. "He's been having an affair. With me...again. Ever since he's been back home." She paused for effect looking directly at Charles. Challenging him. "We met up months ago briefly, talked and both realised there was something still there. He still had feelings for me. Last time we ended it was a mistake. I love him and he loves me. You knew that Molly... deep down. We never should have stopped seeing each other, but stupidly... for some reason we did."

Charles squeezed his fingers gently into Molly's shoulders. He let out a breath he hoped sounded anything but as desperate as he felt. Unsure of these two fiery lady's reactions. He knew them both so well, and knew what they were capable of.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly into her ear. In an attempt to justify his part in it all. "I didn't know. She's only just told me too. Or else I would have…tried to say…"

He stopped. He knew this would stir up hard memories for Molly and that she'd get hurt in the process.

"I'm so sorry Molly." He would have done anything for this secret not to have been found out.

He knew then that the legacy of Georgie, that what him and Georgie had done would never ever leave Molly alone. That the hurt he had cased her was about to be caused again.

Molly moved her head and looked at him and passed a small smile. It was false, behind it she felt sick and like running.

"Who?" She asked.

There was silence and she raised a questioning eyebrow at Charles. She needed him to tell her. Tell her the truth. She deserved that. After last time, after Georgie and it all falling apart in silence. This time she needed to have it spelled out to her clearly regardless of the hurt.

He shifted uncomfortably and looked at his guest, hoping to be let off the hook, but she was enjoying it, and enjoyed Charles' discomfort. This was her pay back for his crimes of yester year.

"Fingers." Charles eventually answered. "Fingers is the father. He's been having an affair with Bella." He pointed at her as she grinned back at Molly and Charles. Even telling Molly disgusted Charles.

Molly mustered her courage, and her anger. Fully understanding everything now.

"You bleeding daft cow Bella." She shouted at her gloating sibling, but at her harsh words the beautifully sculpture sister in front of her crumbled.

"I'm sorry Mols, but I love him." Bella sobbed out. "Me and Fingers love each other."

Molly broke away from Charles and moved into hugging her little sister.

"And he loves me Mols I know he does." She went on. "He's gonna leave his wife and that."

Molly was dumb founded.

She cast a sympathetic eye over towards Charles who fully understood the complications this was all going to throw up. She saw how uncomfortable he felt too, with good cause.

Here was Bella. Molly's sister.

Pregnant with Fingers' child.

Fingers who was married to Marie.

Who happened to be Georgie's sister.

They stared blankly at each other, both aware that one hell of a shit storm was coming.


	17. Chapter 17

**Lizard**

**Chapter 17**

It was more than one man should bear. More than one man could bear.

He sighed as he mustered up the courage to face, what he now saw as his own personal punishment for all his past crimes. That what he was to confront, and had confronted over the last few days was his penance.

The sight before him was hard to take. The subject devoid of any shame, and remorse, and even worse any gratitude. Just expectation, and ignorance. Much like old times.

Charles pushed open the kitchen door and drew in a breath. It was just as bad as he expected.

The half-naked, half asleep specimen was surrounded by last night's dishes, and the kitchen was littered with cans and bottles from their time together. He drew breath momentarily as the figure, standing with his back to him, scratched away at his crotch with no shame or awareness.

"Thought I'd asked you not to smoke in the house?" Were Charles' first words as he entered.

It had been the smell of the smoking joint that had woken both him and Molly. That had sent him racing down to find the one and only culprit.

The accused only looked up at him. Drew in more of the weed and pointed his hand towards the window.

"I opened it up for ya." He said thickly as way of excusing himself. "Didn't I?"

Charles strode over to him and grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and stubbed it out.

"No smoking means no fucking smoking." He growled angrily. "Window open or not. There a kid in the house."

"Oi." The victim shouted and pushed towards Charles who had thrown open the door to get fresh air in. A chair was knocked over in his actions. "That was my bloody fag." He shouted.

"Not in my house." Charles said purposefully slowly. "You're a guest. A fucking unwelcome one, but still one anyway. Remember that."

"I don't have to remember." Fingers shouted back. "This is half Molly's house. She wanted me here so there's nothing you can do about it." He pushed himself closer to Charles than was necessary. "You ain't me boss now CHARLES." He sneered out.

Before he had the chance to reply the kitchen door was thrown open and Molly, the peace keeper, and her noticeably pregnant sister rushed in.

Molly caught the mood straight away, had heard the conflict. It wasn't the first time shouting and bad words had been said between these two. The situation was unbearable, but unavoidable, yet sadly was becoming more frequent.

Molly and Charles' world of domestic bliss had changed dramatically over the past weeks. Since Bella told of her news, she'd also added in the fact that her parents now wanted nothing more to do with her. Effectively forcing Molly and Charles' hand into offering Bella and baby Amy a home. It was something Molly would have done willingly, and her kind heart showed no hesitation in offering her a room. Charles, mindfully that Molly always wanted to help, reluctantly agreed, and found at a frightenly fast pace of knots they now had a new lodger. Sadly though for them, at the time of their kind offer, they hadn't bargained was that where Bella went Fingers was bound to follow.

Fingers whose life was equally messed up. He'd admitted the affair to Marie. Or so he said, both Molly and Charles were almost certain such an honourable move was beyond Fingers, and he'd just instead been found out, Marie knew about the affair, and now he too was homeless. So inevitably he'd turned up on their doorstep as well, and they couldn't say no. Past friendships and guilty feelings of days gone by preventing them from doing so.

It was only meant to be a few days, that's what he'd promised, but it turned into more. Fingers and Bella had now been living with Molly and Charles for just over three weeks, and it was hell, for everyone. Fingers and Charles just simply didn't get on. They had little in common outside of the Army, and it was obvious there was no respect from Fingers for his former Captain. As he believed that Charles couldn't and shouldn't judge him. Fingers' reasoning was that Charles had been just as guilty as he now was, and that meant that finally there was no difference between them, and he let Charles know this each and every time they met.

Charles wasn't a fool. He knew exactly what Fingers now thought of him, and hadn't expected anything, but had believed that as his guests Fingers and Bella would have been humbled, grateful and mindful of their position. They weren't, and abused it frequently. He stood back as often as he could, watching in horror at the liberties they took. In Charles' eyes Molly was too soft. Allowing her sister to come and go as she and Fingers pleased, with more often than not leaving Amy in her care.

Charles now found his time with Molly was shared too often. They were rarely alone. He resented it, and missed his time with Molly. Their relationship was still new, and he felt no longer her number one priority. No longer her waking thought. She worried and fussed constantly about her niece and the effects this was having on her. So she spoiled her, over indulged her, and all at the cost of her and Charles' relationship.

Whereas once before it was the noises from their bedroom that would have had the neighbours blushing, it was now Bella and Fingers who put on sickening loud nightly performances. Molly and Charles paralysed with shame and embarrassment. Feigning sleep and lacking intimacy in the process.

"What going on?" A weary Molly asked looking around at the two sparring men in the kitchen. She spoke quietly as Amy was held in her arms.

"Fingers." Charles said flicking his hand to the open door and window. Serious and commanding in his tone. "Smoking."

"Oh for f..." She stopped herself, aware of the child in her arms. "Fingers how many times?" She asked.

Bella flew rapidly and unnecessarily to his defence. Fingers stayed quiet.

"He's stressed. Can't you see that." She shouted at Charles and glanced accusingly at Molly. Going up to her man and wrapping herself around him.

"Yeah we all are." Charles mumbled.

"What's that meant to meant." Bella snapped, holding on to Fingers in a death grip like hug. "You never wanted us here. You pick on Fingers as often as you can. That's why we're all so stressed."

"That's not true." Is it Charles?" Molly butted in. Forever the peace keeper.

But it was too late. The words were out there and Charles hadn't denied the truth in them.

From his lack of words Bella felt they had taken the high ground, and her and Fingers with smirks on their faces and stormed out of the kitchen. Bella forgetting once again to collect her child on the way.

As she left Bella's words rang around the small room.

"I told ya didn't I Molly? I always told ya he was dick." Bella snapped. "You want to do yourself a favour and leave him. He's a controlling head case."

And then she was gone. Finger stormed out too. Leaving Molly alone, with Charles, still literally holding the baby and a kitchen that stank to high heaven. It took her all her will power not to scream at the unfairness of it all

"Just listen to that?" Charles said as he made the way across his lawn.

It was a late September day but the sun still held its heat and he carried two glasses, and chilled bottle of wine in his hands, as he made his way over to her.

She lay fully stretched out on the garden sofa, her short sundress riding up and showing of the tanned legs she'd been working on all through the summer.

She rolled her head up slowly and watched his arrival. Dipping her sunglasses down over her nose and peeping out over the top of them. She smiled. She was happy, plus he was still a fine sight to behold. She took in the fit man he still was. Clad only in his boarding trunks, his toned body and defined chest were perfect for soaking up the last rays of the season.

"What's that?" She asked only half paying attention to his words. More concerned about watching his arms and the muscles ripple as he moved. They'd always held a special fascination to her. Their strength, their protectiveness, their ability to hold her and take away all her worries.

"Exactly." He said as he sat down next to her and lifted her head so it rested on his lap. A practiced comfortable manoeuvre. "Silence. Beautiful silence." He smiled at her.

She sat up and filled their glasses, stealing a look at him as she did so. He still made her heart fly. His looks and his love for her only improving as the time went on.

"Yeah. It's bleeding fab. Ain't it?" She agreed. Then added. "I know it's been hard for ya Charles. Thank you."

And it had. Frequent character assassinations from both Fingers and Bella. Frequent interruptions to his life. Frequently being second placed when Amy was dumped on them. Yet he took it all. Took it all without too much complaint or grumble.

He leaned forward and took his glass from her. Clinked it against hers.

"It's hasn't exactly been fun." He started hesitantly, not wanting her to know just how hard it all was. "But you don't need to apologise. It's not your fault." He sat back and pulled her in to his cuddle. "Beside I understand. And it won't be forever."

She squeezed him.

"You're hopefully mate." And she laughed.

He forced out a laugh and swallowed the dread that it possibly might just be longer than he could stand.

She appreciated him so much. She knew how hard this was for him.

"So? What did you fancy doing with our free weekend then?"

Bella, Amy and Fingers were all missing this weekend. Fingers finally accepting that Molly and Charles, after months of living together were starting to lose their well renounced big heart accolade.

It was tough, five of them living under one roof. Especially when two of them did bugger all and expected to be waited in hand and foot.

So with a degree of unusual insight Fingers had arranged to take Amy and Bella away for the weekend, to give everyone some breathing space.

"I want to do nothing." He answered, and instantly saw she understood as she beamed back at him.

For the past months they had ran around after their imposed house guests. Had cooked, cleaned, and even waited on them to a degree. So to have the house to themselves, to have only their own schedule to work to was a joy.

"Right." She giggled and moved to lie back down. "So more wine, a take away and a cuddle on the settee later it is then." She said with unhidden happiness.

He bent down and pecked her nose.

"Sounds bleeding perfect." He agreed.

They sat, or in Molly's case, lay there for a long while. Gently chatting to each other, catching up and enjoying it being just them again. The afternoon wore on, another bottle was opened, and the garden now filled with life and sound, provided the perfect background to their garden date.

His fingers from one hand were intertwined with hers, while the other played with her hair as it sprayed out onto is lap.

"You don't regret it? Do you?" She suddenly asked. "Us?"

"What?" He said totally surprised. "Why do you ask that? You still make me the happiest I've ever been." He said quietly. "I thought you knew that."

She knew he'd had a few glasses of wine; she knew both their stomachs were empty, but she also knew he was speaking the truth.

"Yeah I do, and ditto." She said. "The happiest for me too."

A happy silence resumed but he knew she had more to say. Her hand played with the glass resting on her stomach.

"Then why ask Molly?"

He waited out for her to begin.

"It's just.." She started. "It just still new since... you know you and I got back together... and I've dumped so much on ya plate."

"You." He said carefully. "Dumped nothing." He replied. "Bella and Fingers. Well that is what it is, but the rest Molly. Well I'm only happy with you." He stroked her face and watched as it broke into a contented smile. "I will take you anyway I can. Family drama or not."

"I guess. I don't know. I've just been thinking." She said after a moment to consider what he'd said.

"Oh now Dawes we all know that's dangerous." He grinned at her as he tapped her nose.

She giggled at his old and well used answer, but said no more. Loving the fun way he still teased her.

"So come on then Molly. What you been thinking about?" He eventually asked.

"The future." She said softly. "Us. What we once had. What we now have. What we were to each other. Stuff like that." She admitted.

She had closed her eyes during this confession, as though to hide why from the honesty.

"Ah." He rumbled quietly back to her. "The little stuff." And paused. "That's quite some thinking there."

"I know." She replied and stole a look through one opened eye briefly. "Isn't it! Don't you ever... I mean do you too? Think about our future and that?"

He shifted slightly, that's all he did. Think about them together; forever. There, to him, could be no other way. He knew it was early days, but he'd never wanted to be without her. They had this second chance. He wanted to take it, hold onto it, no matter what. He was sure she would too, and her words convinced him more. Convinced him that they both wanted the same thing, to be together forever, again.

He cleared his throat, released his hand from hers and grab his glass taking a huge swig of the warming wine from the glass. Nervous at his up and coming request. Worried he'd mess things up, but needed to ask. Needed to try.

"Molly." He said soft and she fluttered her eyes open to gaze up at him from her lying position. "You know I love you?"

She wrinkled her nose and slipped her sunglasses off. "I do." She blinked rapidly and sweetly at him.

"And we're getting on ok?" He asked. She again looked at him happily. "And I'd never hurt you again. Ever."

She reached out and grabbed his hand that had been stroking her hair. "I know Charles." She confirmed.

He sighed relieved.

"So did you ever think? When you've been doing all that thinking." He stumbled on. "Should we... I mean what do you think... you know try again? That is Molly will you ..."

"Who the hell?" She shouted.

His words were cut off as they heard the constant ringing of the front door bell, followed by heavy knocking.

He was too dazed to react. His question cut off and she jumped to her feet to answer it.

"All right. All right keep your bleeding hair on." She muttered as she walked down the hall to answer it, leaving Charles to deal with the wine that had slopped from her glass as she had quickly stood.

"What's the bloody..." She began as she yanked open the door. But all words were cut off.

"YOU." She said.

"YOU." The door knocker replied.

"What the fuck?" Molly asked dazed.

Never in a hundred years had she expected Georgie Lane to be standing in front of her again.

"Come to see Fingers. He gave this address for emergencies." Her nemesis explained.

"He's out." Molly replied. She didn't feel the need for anymore words.

Then her guest laughed.

"Ah I see now what's going on. He's move in here with you and that little tart of a sister you've got."

"Don't you dare." Molly shot back with relative calmness, but with just the right degree of menace. "You of all people... don't you dare."

Georgie pushed passed Molly and invited herself in to the hallway.

"I prefer if this wasn't done in public." She snarled. The turned on Molly. "Knew you'd have something to do with all this. Should have guessed. So what is this then Molly? Pay back?" She asked.

"I don't know what you're on about." Molly said as she slammed the front door shut. Ornaments in the house shook. She had put all her anger into that action, only wishing that the uninvited guest had been on the other side.

"Really? Pretty bloody convenient isn't it?" Georgie continued. "I come back from tour to find my sister's life and the kids' lives have turned to shit. Fingers has up and left, and low and behold I then find out that it's with the slag of a sister of the perfect Molly Fucking Dawes."

Molly stood there dumb struck. For years she had hoped to see Georgie again so she could have her say. Tell her what she thought about what she had done to her and Charles' marriage. In the beginning she had spent many a night planning the vicious verbal attack she'd inflict on her, but she never got the chance. Molly had left too quickly, and her anger was swallowed up instead by her grief over losing Charles, and the distance she had put between them.

Georgie took the silence as having the upper hand. So she turned on her again.

"You and that little home wrecker dream this up between you?"

"No." Molly said instantly. Sickened by the thought she could play with someone's life like that.

They stared at each other in resentful silence.

Molly was spectacularly calm. The intervening years and her new happiness had given her a better outlook on it all. The time for anger had passed. She had let that go a long time ago, a long time before she had even forgiven Charles. Instead she calmly watched the ex friend in front of her, and although didn't react to the all too familiar taunting Georgie was giving her, she knew she hadn't and couldn't ever forgive her. Molly shook her head and a sad smile crossed it. Georgie was confused, then suddenly spoke.

"You know he begged me? Begged me to stay with him. Give it ago." She waited for a reaction.

Her words hurt Molly as she knew exactly who she was talking about.

Georgie continued.

"After that night he wanted more. He wanted me." She sneered at Molly. "Not you...me!"

Molly drew in a sharp breath feeling Charles' betrayal all over again. Wanting not to hear this but powerless to stop it.

"Ironic isn't it? Georgie laughed. "I lost the love of my life and you lost yours!" She paused. "I didn't want Charles, but he wanted me. I never did want him, but I took him anyway, because he wanted me so much."

"It's not true." Molly whispered. Then swallowed and asked. "Why then Georgie? Why?"

Georgie's stood straight and determined to cause pain, but not to tell the truth.

"He still wants me you know? He still calls me, contacts me, begs me for another chance." She laughed sharply. "He still loves me. You've lost him Mols. Now and for ever."

Up until those words Molly had been fearful that what she was hearing was maybe true. That Charles had wanted to try with Georgie after it all, despite what he'd told her. She had started to doubt everything Charles had told her, but then with those few words, she knew that Georgie's word were all a pack of lies. She glorified in the high moral ground she was now about to take.

"You're wrong." She simply said. "So wrong Georgie. He never wanted you. He was ill. Messed up. Didn't know what he was doing."

"And afterwards? Later on?" Georgie asked. "Heard you ran away. Left the country. What do you know?"

"I know enough." Molly said gently. "To know he regrets everything."

"Still cheated on you though didn't he? With me. That must stick in your gut? Perfect Molly Dawes and her perfect Captain James... gone right down the shitter! Just like my life did."

Molly felt no longer angry at Georgie, and realise that she hadn't for a long time now. What she did feel seeing this raging, lying woman in front of her, was a sorry account of the character she used to know.

"Come in Georgie." She pointed to the lounge. "Let's talk." Trying to help with Georgie's obvious still raw grief over Elvis.

Georgie refused to move. Not enjoying this confident controlled Molly.

"No. I've nothing more to say. I came here for Fingers. Not you. I never wanted to see you again, or to speak to you."

"Yet you've had plenty to say!" Molly reasoned. "Since you walked through that door."

Suddenly Georgie realised how unaffected Molly was by her presence. How little hurt she had inflicted on her, hurt she thought she should feel because she still hurt over Elvis. She tried again.

"Just last week he texted." She began scarily quiet after her shouting. "Wanted to see me. Told me..."

"What did I tell you?"

The sound of his voice made the colour drain from Georgie's face as she span around to look at him. He prowled down the hallway towards them both, still only dressed in his shorts, hung low and tempting on his hips, his top half bare, as were his feet, yet he still commanded attention.

"Charles!" She shot out in surprise and horror. Then instantly flushed. Partly at his presence, partly at the sight of his semi naked body again. "What?" She asked confused.

"I think." Charles began again as he went over towards Molly and pulled her into him. Grateful that she moulded into him with no resistance. "You were just about to explain about all these attempts I've apparently made to contact you." He arched his eyebrows at her, in full Captain mode.

She flounder. Stuttered. Affected by the semi nakedness of Charles in front of her. Assaulted with memories of the last time they'd been close and scantily clad. Her face flushed, as she processed the reaction it caused in her still. His body was as perfect and as tempting as it always had been. She felt it's loss in her life more keenly than she had felt for a long time.

She pushed all those thoughts down, and reignited her rage.

"You two?" She asked as realisation dawned on her. Understanding why he was there, with Molly, together. Resenting what she was seeing. "You have to be bloody kidding me?"

"It's not true is it Georgie?" He asked. "I haven't been contacting you! Not since that night. Not once."

Molly could feel the worry and stress Charles felt standing next to her. She moved into him closer and squeezed his hand to reassure him. She was rewarded by a tentative smile from him.

"You're back together." Georgie asked not bothering to answer his question. "How long?" She asked

"Forever." Charles answered and pulled Molly closer to him. Purposefully misinterpreting her question. All she needed to know was that Molly was the one. No matter what.

"Why?" She stared at Molly. "Why did you forgive him? How could you?" She asked.

"Cause I love him." She replied. "Always did. Always will."

"What happened shouldn't have happened." He said. "You know that Georgie? You and I? We fucked up. Just like Elvis fucked up."

"Don't." She spat out. "Don't you blame him."

"His death wasn't your fault or mine. I thought it was for a long time." Charles admitted. "But it wasn't. He took a risk. A silly risk and paid for it. We all did."

Molly went to step forward when she saw Georgie's eyes fill up and her head shake.

"It's not fair." She spoke stepping away from any comfort Molly would give her. "It's not fair." And with that she turned and left. Closing the door slowly behind her.

It took them seconds to move. Both frozen in the moment.

He couldn't move. He couldn't dare to think what Molly must have been feeling. That she may even believe Georgie's lies.

"You ok?" She asked him, noticing he moved away at the sound of her voice. A small, tiny, bubble of anger stirred in her gut. Resenting the silence and the distance he'd engineered. Then she squashed it. This wasn't going to be them again. Georgie Lane wasn't going to wreck them again. She'd learnt the hard way that sometimes in life you just had to let go, move on, and embrace what you now have. Her past and Georgie's involvement in it wasn't going to destroy her happiness.

She watched him closely. He fiddled with his ear and shuffled his feet. He stood only just out of her reach in front of her. The small hall way, the scene to the drama that had just unfolded now feeling uncomfortably hot and stifling to them both.

"Yeah." He didn't look at her. Focused on his bare feet. Nervously now playing with the soft curls at the back of his neck. He stalled then drew the courage to speak. "You know none of it was true don't you? I haven't, wouldn't, didn't stay in touch." He searched her eyes for confirmation.

"I know." She politely said and stepped closer. He held his ground, "Though some of it was true though wasn't it?" And she took away another fraction of the space between them.

His head shot up to look at her. "What?" He choked out. She stood so close to him now.

She reached for his hands.

"She's right. It's true. It ain't fair." She caught his full gaze and held it. "Elvis died. Lots of people got hurt. Georgie especially."

"Molly." He cautioned. He knew all about her big heart.

"What happened happened. It wasn't right. It wasn't nice, but I can see now." She pulled him in to her and rested her head on his chest. Snaking her arms around him. She almost purred when he did the same back. "Georgie was desperate, still is. She's lost everything. We all did for a while." She kissed his bare chest to connect even more with him. "Thing is we got it back... what we lost. She hasn't. Didn't. That's why she made all that up. Why she's still so hurt. She's angry and empty."

"You feel sorry for her don't you?" He shook his head as he kissed on the top of hers.

"Yeah I guess I do." She breathed into him. "Don't you feel sorry for her?" She asked.

"Honestly Molly...no. When it comes to Lane I don't feel anything, except regret and sadness."

"But she's never moved on." Molly explained. "That was obvious from today's outburst. She was hurting."

"And we have." He said as a statement as he breathed slowly out.

"Yeah we have. Forgiven and forgotten. Changed because of it... but stronger I guess." And she reinforced this as she held onto him tighter.

"You amaze me Molly." He rested his head on hers. His chin heavy on the top of her hair. "Amaze me and make me grateful every day you had a big enough heart to come back to me."

She pulled away.

"Once. A long time ago. I promised you I always would. That ain't changed Charles. I always will."

"Always." He repeated.

"Just like I know that you'll always come back to me." She continued.

He dipped his head to hers. Her face now tilted to his and her lips parted in anticipation. A seal to the deal they were making.

"Yes Molly. Always." And then he kissed her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Don't normally do this this, but thought I' d put this chapter up a bit earlier than I intended, and dedicate it to a FFOG reader/writer who's in hospital at the mo. Hope this chapter fills in some of the alone time S. **

**Not saying it will make you better, but might just take your mind off RL for a moment or two. xxxx**

**Lizard**

**Chapter 18**

She sat and watched them from the safety of her car which was once again parked opposite the house.

It was the second time in as many weeks that she had done this. She pretended that she didn't know why she was doing it, but she did. She was hurt. She was angry. She was alone. She was curious.

She watched them as they left the house and kissed each other goodbye. Both lingering more than expected. It was obvious that neither were wanting to say their good byes. Soon one headed one way, the other in the opposite direction. Even though they had parted from one another merely moments before, she watched as they both periodically turned back to check on the other's progress, and to offer a smile, or a wave, whenever they could. Their love for each other was plain for all to see.

It was hard for her to admit it to herself, but she did; all she saw was simple, pure, love. All she saw were two people that belonged together. All she saw was something she didn't have, no longer had, something she'd never have again. Something she had lost and something she missed so very much.

She stayed longer than intended once they had disappeared from her view, but had no desire to move. No compunction to drive away. Happy staying where she was. Content with mulling over what she had seen yet again.

But then she saw him, and her peace shattered. She was unsure how long she had sat there, but now knew she had been sat there long enough to be seen.

He walked slowly, cautiously, over to her car, and tapped on the window.

She hit the button and wound it down. Reluctantly.

"You ok?" He asked. The concern in his voice reminding her of their old times together.

"Yes." She replied, sharply. Still not really looking at him. Even just being in his company like this stirred up her emotions.

He looked up and down the street and then back at the house. Unsure if he wanted them to be seen or not. Knowing the trouble it may cause. That there would be questions to be answered, and maybe hell to pay if her was seen with her.

"You gonna let me in then?" He asked as he walked around to the passenger side of her car. Knowing inside the car was safer than out on the street for all to see.

She released the door and he slid in next to her. Instantly happy with the warmth the car gave him.

"You ok?" He asked again. Turning to look at her. Really look at her. It hurt him to see how pale she looked. How tired she seemed. A shell of the Georgie Lane he had once know. Had once served with.

"You already asked me that." Georgie replied, wincing under his scrutiny. She hated how his gaze felt like it was biting into her soul.

"I know." He said. "But this time I want you to answer truthfully."

It hurt her that he knew her so well. For a long time she had tried to keep others locked out. Letting people in, depending on them only caused problems. Both of them knew that. Both had learnt it the hard way. Yet he knew her and knew her well. Their friendship, the countless tours, the situations they had been, in all leant itself to a friendship that would never die. No matter what past sins had been committed.

"No." She sighed. "How can I be?" She half-heartedly asked. "Don't know if I ever will be." She added on quieter note.

"You know this won't help?" He dipped his head to the house she'd trained her eyes on. "Watching."

"I know." She sighed. "I just need some answers."

"Georgie." He began. "The only thing you need to know is they love each other. They're together and you have no place in their lives anymore."

She sneered at Fingers' harsh words, but realised their truthfulness.

"But how?" She asked him. "They get it all, and I get nothing. Why?"

"Don't know." Fingers replied honestly. "But that's how it is. Molly and Charles were mean to be."

Georgie stayed quiet for a bit. Thinking over his words. They were few, but in this case even she could see they were wise.

"So what about you and her then? Bella! You meant to be?"

It took him a while. He stared straight ahead. Working out the answer that needed at last to be said.

"Yeah. I do." Fingers admitted. "Me and Marie. We weren't good for one another. You knew that. Saw it yourself." Fingers paused. "As mad and an annoying cow that she is Bella is the one."

"The one?" Georgie laughed out. "What like your soul mate?"

"Yeah." He answered back with no hesitation. "My soulmate."

"Well I don't believe that bull shit." She spat out.

Fingers turned and looked at her. He saw only the tears in Georgie's eyes.

"Yeah you do." He said softly. "Elvis was yours. You know that. That's why all this hurts. Charles is Molly's. And it pisses you off."

"To fucking right it does." Her words were harsh but there was no power in her voice.

She continued.

"You've broken our Marie you know?"

"Nah. I haven't." Fingers replied. He waited and unusually for him measured his words before he spoke again. "She's annoyed I left. That I was the one who got out first, and not her. But that's it. We were over a long time ago." He explained. "She knew that."

He watched from the corner of his eyes at Georgie. Biting her nails and fidgeting. She looked tired, exhausted; his heart went out to her.

"So where to from here?" He asked her. "Cause this ain't right."

She leaned over and gently banged her head on the steering wheel.

"I don't know Fingers." She admitted. "Since Elvis. Since Charlie. All I've done is tour after tour, posting after posting... thought that was the thing to do." She lifted her head up and flopped back onto the headrest. "But seeing this... those two... how they've move on... back to how it was...well... I just don't know?"

"Yeah you do." Fingers said as he started to roll a cigarette. Expertly creating the perfect smoke from the paper and baccy he always carried. "You have to move on. Let go."

"Just like that?" She asked.

"There's no going back." He answered. "And no not just like that Georgie. It been over five years since Elvis." He placed the prepared cigarette behind his ear and touched her arm. "It's time to move forward. Live again."

"What like those two have?" She asked sneering. "Like you are?" She raised an eyebrow at him. Challenging him.

"Exactly." He said accepting the challenge. Pleased she'd understood. "For you to ever be happy again Georgie it's time to move forward."

"What if I don't want to?" She asked.

Fingers opened the car door and started to leave. Her question stalled him.

"You have to Georgie." He said simply. "Come on it's what Elvis would have wanted. Expected even." He smiled at her. "He loved you for your bravery. Your courage. Time to show him again just how brave and strong you are. Make his memory proud of the woman he loved."

And with that he was gone.

The tears flowed down her face as she scrambled through her phone for their playlist. Her and Elvis'. Once the music started, she dried her eyes. It was still something of 'them' she still had left.

A small smile came to her face as she listened, and remembered. Amazed as to the sense she had just heard from one whom she had doubted had such advice in him.

She been offered advice many times over the years. From those who loved her and from those who didn't, but today, Fingers' advice felt real. Today her heart had been ready to listen to his counsel.

She gave one last look at the home Molly and Charles shared. Offered a small wave, almost a salute, and pulled away. Driving back to her family in the north. Back to finally starting to move forward with her life. Back to being the woman Elvis loved and knew, and not the false shell of the woman she had become.

It was time. It was simply time for Georgie Lane to admit her mistakes. Face up to her errors and betrayals. Accept the friendships she'd lost because of it all, but appreciate she could move on. She could start again, and she would. Hoping to make everyone, especially Elvis, proud of her all over again.

He hated to see her cry, but that was all he'd seen over the past few days. The emotions of what she was going through made sure of that. His Molly rarely cried out of self-pity. It was all ways in anger or through hurt, but the tears he had seen over the past days were hard for him to watch.

He'd watched her walk out the door that morning, already with a puffy swollen face and a hitch in her breath. She had smiled sadly at him knowing that no matter what, he couldn't take away the upset she was to face in the day to come. He knew when she returned home there would be more tears, and he promised himself that he would be there for her. Dam her pride.

Their home life was turbulent still. Nothing was settled or calm any more. Their house guests still as noisy and unhelpful as ever.

It should have been unbearable, but both Molly and Charles had finally stated to zone out of out all. Had started to self-preserve. They now spent long periods of time away from their home. Walks at weekends, meals out and visiting friends meant their interaction with Bella and Fingers was at the minimum.

Still it wasn't enough. They needed to get away. They needed time alone. They both knew that. They needed time apart.

Charles rushed about the bedroom packing the bags. Desperate to leave before anyone got back and questioned him. He wanted a clean escape. He wanted it to be a 'fait accompli' by the time the house filled up again. He didn't want any questions.

The front door gently closed and he heard her call his name softly.

"Charles?" She called as she moved through the house.

His heart fluttered. He still loved that she called him by the name she had laughed at all those years ago, but he was sad that his plan to leave before her return was thwarted. His plans were now ruined.

She walked into the bedroom and immediately saw the suitcases full, and his sad and guilty look.

"Got off early." She explained. "What's going on?" She asked as the tears started to leak down her face. "You leaving me?"

He nodded as he moved over to her and held her.  
Her face nuzzled into his chest made his jumper damp by the leaking of her eyes.

"Yes. I. Am." He kissed her head sadly. "Didn't expect you home. Had it all planned. Thought I'd be gone by now." He sighed. "Wasn't expecting to tell you like this."

She pulled away from him and smiled an unsure and teary smile.

"So?" She hoped there would be more.

"I was going to pick you up. From work. From your last shift at the charity." He drew in a breath. "Then drive us to off to the airport."

"Airport?" She beamed, though her eyes still watered, and she sniffed loudly and unladylike. "Sounds good."

"Doesn't it?" He smiled. "You and I. Two weeks. Alone in a hot country. What do you think?" He asked as he rubbed away the watery tracks from her face. Looking into her eyes as he did so.

"You've planned all this? Packed for me and everything?" She asked noticing some of her clothes in the pile on the bed.

"Yes? You don't mind do you?" He stepped back a bit from their embrace. Charles wondered if he had over stepped the mark. His independent Molly loved to be involved in plans, never liked just be told.

She move too now, and sat down on the edge of the bed and watched his concerned face. The past weeks had been draining for her. It had finally been her last week at the charity and she had so many goodbyes to say. She worried constantly she was doing the right thing. Another career change, more years of being unsettled ahead of her. Yet Charles had been the one to support her, encourage her. Telling her again and again just how brilliant a Paramedic she'd be, and so she'd made the leap of faith. Handed in her notice with the charity and accepted the place on the Paramedic course. And now here he was appreciative of all the energy that had gone into making this life change decision and was offering her respite. A break. With him. To somewhere hot.

She stood up and walked over to him.

Reaching up on her tip toes as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. She stilled his hands with her touch covering them. She placed a small kiss on his lips, dry and cracked from his working of them because of his worry over the reaction to his surprise.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

His face instantly lit up and he pulled her into him and hugged her. Delighted with her acceptance of this gift from him to her.

"You don't even know where we are going yet." He teased as he kissed her again.

"Don't care." She said. "As long as it's hot, and away from Bella and Fingers." She glared at him for confirmation.

"Yeah. Don't worry." He replied. "Hot and definitely just the two of us."

"See." She smiled up at him as he held her. "Perfect."

Within hours they were at the airport, and the next day and a half of travelling went well. Both seasoned in getting from A to B, both happy with the queues, the process and the inevitable delays. Both happy to be in each other's company, but not dependent on the other for amusement. Happy with their own music and books, with their own entrainment. It's how they had all ways been when travelling, easy, calm.

The only thing they insisted on from the very first time they had travelled together, outside of their jobs, was that they sat next to one another and always, no exception, always held hands. Both on take off and on landing. It was these parts of the journey, when they were soldiers, that always marked a change. A beginning or an end, a separation or a return, and although they might have been in a plane with hundreds of other comrades, one always felt alone at these times. And so to have the freedom to no longer feel that sense of isolation, to have someone by your side, both took it up willingly. So hand holding was what they did.

They lay tangled in the thin sheets of the hotel rooms bed. Both very contented. The complimentary bottle of wine half drunk, the basket of fruit that came with the room picked at, both feeling a long forgotten peacefulness. That and the slow, unhurried love making they had just undertaken had just left them drifting off into a soporific paradise. The type that you only achieve when the views from the hotel room are more than you imagined, the afternoon sun is as hot as you wished for, and the person you most loved is nestled contently in your arms.

"Happy?" Charles asked sleepily.

"Bleeding happy." She replied. Stroking light circles with her fingers, moving lower and lower across his abdomen. Slightly tickling him as she brushed across his feathery down. The fine dusting of hairs that plotted a route to his happy place had always fascinated her. "Thank you. This is perfect."

"What even the embarrassment of being given the honeymoon suite?" He chuckled as he remembered the look on her face as they checked in.

"Oh that was well embarrassing." She hit his arm playfully. "You could have warned me."

"I didn't know. Honestly." He defended himself, truthfully, and she turned her naked body over to look at him. "Honestly! We just got lucky. Wasn't my idea." He repeated his innocence in the fact they now inhabited a luxury suite for the fortnight.

"Well. I guess it don't matter now, cause this." She swept her hand around the large room they were in. "Is amazing. Thank you." She kissed him sweetly on his lips.

"Right." He said with authority. Jumping out of her embrace and stood suddenly naked in front of her. Arms placed on each hip as he stood to attention before her. She grinned at the divine sight. "I'm off for a shower, and then thought we could explore." He suggested, rather than asked.

Molly rolled over and groaned. Even though he was years older than her he still had more energy than her, and still had that spirit of adventure, that sometime she wished he could forget in an attempt to lazing around for just a bit longer.

She watched as he moved away from her. His toned body, his delectable arse, caused a wide grin to spread across her face. How did she get so lucky.

"I know you're checking me out." He said just as he switched the shower room light on. "I know you Miss Dawes and your pervy looks."

"You complaining?" She shouted at him as he disappeared out of her sight.

"Not at all." He replied from the bathroom. "Look away. I'm all yours." He was silent for a bit and added. "In fact I reckon you could join me in here, you'd get quite a good close up." He shouted over the noise of the running water.

She giggled but had no reply and stared out of the room window. Enjoying the moment. The palm trees swayed in the breeze, the sound of the sea, the quite murmur of happy people outside. She knew it was going to be a good holiday.

She reluctantly pulled herself from the bed and looked at the cases still on the floor waiting to be unpacked. Knowing he'd not expect it. He never did, but wanting to, she decided to start unpacking both their cases. Slowly pulling out her clothes first, as she began discovering what he'd packed for her, then doing the same to his case.

She was half way through his when she saw it. It was partly hidden and she would never have seen it if she hadn't been doing this good deed.

A small navy blue ring box.

It was obvious what it was. There was no doubt and hesitantly she opened it up.

"Shit." She muttered under her breath.

It was beautiful. A delicate aquamarine square cut stone, mounted in platinum. Perfect. A million miles away from her old engagement ring.

The last ring he'd presented her with the first time he had proposed was, for one reason or another, memorable. It was a diamond, gold and although she'd loved it, it always felt it belong to someone older and wiser that her. She always felt it's weight when she wore it. Always felt it's oddness being on her finger, but she never said.

It had been a long while since she'd thought about that ring, and the memory of it stilled her. Of course she didn't have that ring any more, nor her wedding ring. Both had been sold very soon after Charles' betrayal, and their bounty went towards paying for her airfare to New Zealand. The only thing she had gained when she walked away from the marriage... a plane ticket!

It felt odd to be holding something so meaningful in her hands again. Odd to look at something and think it so beautiful, but to be so frighten by it at the same time.

Gently she touched it and wondered what to do. Again the enormity of her discovery hit her.

"Holy fucking shit." She said, this time a bit louder.

"I was expecting something a bit different to that!" He said as he walked towards her, still wet from the shower, his lower half wrapped in a towel. His face showed his concern.

She spun around, totally shocked, to look at him as he gently took the ring box from her and closed it.

"You weren't meant to find that." He said shyly. "Had that all planned too."

She looked at him apologetically. "Sorry." But it was too late. He had already seen the horror and worry on her face on finding the ring. He knew this was a bad idea. That he was going to get hurt.

"No. That's ok." He said and stroked her face with his damp palm. Looking into her startIed eyes, and her attempt to show a neutral face to him.

"You ok?" He asked. Though he knew the answer.

"Yeah." She said very, very slowly.

"I take it then by your reaction that this was a surprise?" He tried to hide his hurt with a laugh.

"You could say that." She whispered, still trying to look away from the box held in his hand.

"Ok." He moved away from her. "Let's forget it shall we? Pretend you never saw it."

"I can't do that can I?" She said. "I mean I take it is what I think it is?" She said pointing at his closed hand. "An engagement ring?"

"Yeah." He answered as he picked up the spare towel and started to rub his hair dry. Anything to avoid looking at her.

"So you were gonna ask me to marry you?" She said and he heard the panic rising in her voice.

"Yes. I was Molly." He put the towel down. Sitting down on the room settee, legs spread out in front of him and eyes concentrating on the floor.

"Had it all planned?" She asked, repeating his words from before.

He nodded and it was only the cushion dipping next him that told him she was still in the room. She'd been silent for too long.

Neither spoke for what seemed a life time to them both. Eventually Charles had to.

"So what do you think?" He asked

"I don't know." She replied honestly. She was surprised when he turned and looked at her and she could see the pain her words caused. "I mean I just didn't think you would ... you know ... again like." She shrugged her shoulders. Unsure what more there was to say.

"Right." Was all he replied.

"So you had it all planned?" She tried to tease and knew she shouldn't but was lost what to do or say.

Again he only nodded. "It wasn't going to be like last time." He clarified. Last time he'd done the big gesture, down on one knee, a speech, the works. This time he wanted to keep it simple, but just as meaningful, but he'd known from the moment he'd seen her standing there horrified, holding the open box that this was not going to happen.

More silence. They were both lost.

"Look let's just enjoy the holiday shall we?" He said with an attempt at mock cheerfulness. "Forget about it. Put it away and pretend you never saw it."

"But I did!" She said. "Bit of a surprise that's all." She attempted.

"Yes. I saw that." He sounded so sad. He looked out, past her.

"Look... I just need time." She reasoned. "Let me get me head around it. Is that ok?"

"Do I have a choice?" He asked desperately trying to keep the hurt he felt out of his voice.

"Well yeah!" She watched him zipping the ring box away in an inside pocket of his case. To him the matter was closed. "But you're right let's enjoy the holiday." She said with false happiness too.

She went up to him and hugged him. Slowly with lack of lustre he returned the hug.

"I love you." She said.

"Love you too Molly." He sighed. "So much."

"It..." She began. Needing to give him more. "It ain't a 'no'." She squeezed him. "It just ain't a question I'm ready to be asked again." She said.

"Again?" He mocked. There were traces of cruelness to his voice. "Again, by me or by anyone?"

"By you." She said shocked. "I mean it I love you..."

"But?" He questioned.

"I don't know." She replied honestly and was happy that he still held her. "All I know is it's you, only you, always you. And maybe one day I'll know."

He kissed the top of her head. He had to accept that. Anything with Molly was better than nothing at all. He'd had it all with her once and had hoped for it all again. That was his plan, his expectation, but now he feared that may not happen. That what they had now was all they'd have, and maybe he had to accept that.

"When you do know you will tell me won't you?" He rested his chin on her head.

"Of course. You'll be the first to know." And breathed in the change and sadness the past few moments had brought them.

She hadn't expected it, she wasn't ready for that again, but she did love him and never wanted to be apart from him again.

But she was scared and was starting something new, and her mind, courage and heart couldn't cope with everything at once. Not anymore. She'd been too hurt in the past to let that happen again.

She was starting another adventure, a new role, and she wanted this time for it to be about her. Molly Dawes, not one half of a couple like she had become once before. Not tied to someone else by name and or by law, because when she had last done that she'd lost everything. She very nearly even lost herself, but this time she didn't want that to happen.

For now, just for now, Molly was thinking only of her. Of what she needed. Sure that in time it would match Charles' wishes, but for now he'd have to accept she loved him and that would have to be enough.

For now.


	19. Chapter 19

**And so we come to the end! Thank you for reading, and sticking with our favourite couple. Thanks to Debbie too for her Beta skills.**

**Lizard.**

**Epilogue.**

She stood in the room all alone. It's was after all what she had wanted. The silence, and the time to reflect.

She knew he'd be worried about her. Even still this is what he'd agreed to, and so this is now what she had.

Time away from Charles.

Time to think.

He loved her. She knew that. He wanted them to have what they had had before, and so much more. He believed in them. She knew that too. But all those months ago when she had found the ring she just couldn't say yes.

It wasn't what she had wanted. She believed in them too. There was no doubting that. She too wanted everything and more…just like before. But she'd been too scared to admit it, and there were too many changes she needed to make in her life, to even think about considering one more.

Yet now she had considered. She'd been given the space, and things were so very different. She'd had her time, and now she knew what it was she wanted with the utmost certainty. She knew her heart and what it needed.

Now all she had to do was find a way to break it to him.

Find a way to let him know that this was what she wanted. Finally.

She knew, of course he'd be upset. His emotions would be played out. His male pride wounded, dented, but she also know that it couldn't be helped, and that was just the way it was. She was the one making the choice this time, not him.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She considered herself, and found she recognised the stranger who now stood in front of her. Still the Molly Dawes of old. Still the girl he had fallen in love with all those years ago, but now there was something more. Something that she could identified as utter confidence in herself and her abilities. He'd given her that.

She now had faith in those she loved, and who loved her. She trusted them. Knew she deserved their love, their praise, and so took it and accepted it willingly.

It had been a long hard journey. One she had started with him all those years ago in a dusty, hot country, and had continued on it ever since. So much harder than she had expected, but sometimes, he had reminded her, the best ones always were.

And this last stage had been one of the hardest, as she had expected. So, standing there looking at herself all dressed up and nervous, she felt proud. The three years of studying training, doubting, depending, all accumulated in today. Today marked an end and a beginning.

Today was her graduation day. Today was the day that she had wondered about so many times. Had questioned if she would ever get there, if she would ever achieve what she had set out to do.

Yet she had, and she had done it with her own determination and brilliance, but she'd also done it with all of Charles' love and support. That meant the world to her.

So, as she stood and looked at herself. Her pretty smart summer dress hidden by her hired black gown and the mortar board cap in her hand, the sight made her smile. Who would have thought?

A gentle knock on the cloakroom door stirred her.

"Molly. It's time to go." He softly said through the closed door. "The rest of your course are moving out."

She opened the door and greeted him with a wide happy toothy grin. She'd caught the slight worry on his face, which vanished as she beamed at him. She knew he was worried about her. He always would be. She knew, he knew, today meant so much to her. She knew without him she wouldn't have made it though, and she had told him that so many times.

"Ready." She stroked his arm gently as she turned to walk off. "See you out there." She smiled back.

As she walked backwards for a few yards to look at him one last time she appreciated him. Dressed in a smart crisp navy-blue suit with a perfectly ironed shirt, and the old regimental tie, he looked perfect. She blew him a kiss as she finally turned and saw a slight blush spread across his face as he realised how public a place they were in. Still she heard him chuckle and it made her almost skip back into his arms. Yet she didn't. She moved forward. Towards her classmates of the past three years. Towards the glory of the graduation ceremony.

There were no nerves as she stood at the side of the stage waiting for her name to be called out. She couldn't see them but knew they'd be there. Charles, her Mum and Margaret. All out there in the audience of the grand building supporting her. Just like they had done all along.

Relationships had eventually improved between Molly and her parents, and ultimately with Charles too. Both parents realising that Molly had made her choice. They knew of her stubborn streak and knew once her choice was made there was no going back. So slowly they accepted Charles back into their family. Slowly forgiving him for past indiscretions.

He became an honorary Dawes again. Except it wasn't like before. It was different. This time around Dave didn't ask him for a drink down at his local when they visited, and Belinda didn't hang onto his every word as she used to, but it was better than expected. Molly and Charles knew that, and were happy with the civil relationships they now had. Time had changed and hurt them all to a degree.

Molly's relationship with Margaret had changed too. She remained her friend, but also became a part time carer for her too. Margaret, who was growing older and frailer, each day, now depended on Molly and Charles more than she ever had. Frequently staying with them, frequently asking them to visit her, to share their lives again with her. And so, they did. Neither Charles, nor Molly, minded. They saw how happy she was with her son's new life; with the woman he always did, and always would love, and it made them happy too.

So, to have both Mums and Charles here today, to see her accept her degree, to see her qualify as a Paramedic, meant the world to Molly. It was truly a day to remember.

The weeks of preparation, stress, excitement, all led to this, and too soon it was over. The celebration of three years hard work quickly finished, as the four of them soon poured out of the hall, on their way to toast Molly and her success.

They ate a celebratory meal together. Molly the happy centre of attention for once They told stories and they laughed. A happy day, but the sands of time still ran as quickly as they always did. While Belinda and Margaret each returned to their own homes that late afternoon, Charles had booked him and Molly into a hotel in the country for a few days of pampering. Once the goodbyes were made they set off, excited and ready, for their relaxing alone time.

As Charles drove Molly sat in silence. Her mind running through all events that lead them to here.

"Penny for them." He asked as he stroked her hand, while the other one rested on the wheel.

She smiled slowly. Wondering how all her thoughts could only be worth a penny.

It was just over three years since that day in the hotel room. The day she had found the ring and effectively shut down Charles' plans, to propose.

Since then it had never been mentioned again. Of course, there were times when she could see him thinking about asking, thinking about risking it all. Yet he never did. She knew he saw in her that she had things to do. That timings were wrong and so he held his counsel.

That had pleased her. Showed they had changed as a couple. Now equal, now both respected, now both listened too. The three years had brought other changes too. Fingers and Bella had finally moved out. Into married quarters, now officially a couple and their relationship was loud, demanding and precarious, but it was removed from Charles and Molly's life. Removed enough to allow them to be them again, without any sibling drama. The house they had once shared was now yet again quiet and peaceful.

Yet somehow along the way both Molly and Charles had realised that they had outgrown the house, and too needed to move on. That was their next step. Their next big plan together. A house that they both owned. They were excited, but for now even that plan was put on hold. He once again was waiting for her. Waiting until Molly found out exactly which station she'd be working from, and then they'd look. Look for something bigger, more space, more rooms. Even more suitable for a growing family. This too has been touched on, but once again he didn't rush her, he knew like with everything to do with Molly he'd wait out until she was ready.

"You never asked me again did you?" She replied to his question.

"Asked you what?" He looked at her briefly as he drove. Confused by her question.

"To marry you." She turned and smiled at him gently. Watching his reaction closely.

"Afraid you'd say no I guess". He shook his head and shrugged. She saw how vulnerable he was about that subject, and he did what he often did when he felt scared. He went silent. He said no more, instead he fixed his eyes on the road.

"Probably would've." She admitted still watching him. Her words made him start, but he still didn't look at her.

"Right." Was all he said nodding his head slowly in understanding. Allowing one hand to stray from hers and run through his curls.

Neither continued the conversation. The miles went by and the silence remained. They both sat watching the countryside pass them by and pretended all was fine.

Eventually he spoke. He'd been stealing glances at her for the last half an hour. She had given little away, apart from occasional biting of her nails and looking as though she was about to speak again.

"And now?" He said a bit too abruptly. Desperation started the conversation again. Knowing she would understand what he was saying. "I mean now, if I were to ask you again would you say no?" He licked his lips; his mouth dry because of his nerves.

"No." She replied turning to look at him. Realising they had arrived too suddenly at the destination.

"No?" He shook his head and caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. He was beginning to understand, so pressed on. "No... as in 'no I don't want to marry you Charles'? Or no...as in 'I wouldn't say no if you asked me to marry you'?" He stopped the car as he pulled into the hotel car park. He turned the engine off and looked directly at her.

"No." She giggled as she looked at his eyes rolling, and how exasperated he appeared by her ambiguous answer. She pitied him and finally gave him his answer. "I meant...No as in... 'I wouldn't say no if you asked me again'." She smiled, as she caught the beginning of a huge grin on his face, and then jumped out the car to grab her bag. His happy chuckle playing in her ears as she left warming her.

"Right, good to know." Was all he said as he followed her out of the car. But his movements were relaxed, pleased, buoyant even, as he happily slung his arm around her as they walked towards the hotel. Pulling her in for the occasional kiss, to show her his love. For now, they both knew, that conversation was halted. But just for now. Their minds quietly turning over new possibilities that had suddenly arose.

They moved around each other in a practiced way. Not touching each other, but happy. Large smiles were fixed to their faces. Both happy with their tasks, both had things to do that morning. Important things. They each had somewhere to be and couldn't be late.

It had been many weeks after her graduation, after that car journey when she had given him hope, that he had eventually got round to asking her to marry him.

Weeks in which she had wondered, she had hoped, but had never worried. She knew he loved her and wanted to be with her... always.

Eventually though he did the deed. More perfect than anything she could have imagined possible. She'd walked downstairs one morning with an arm full of washing to find him sitting outside on the patio, just staring. She recognised his look, chewing on his bottom lip, he was deep in thought. Briefly she was concerned. Briefly she worried; but saw as she watched him more closely, a small smile often played on his lips. She dropped her load and went out to see him.

As she got closer she saw more. More than she had seen when standing in the kitchen, saw something that took her breath away. He sat with his hands placed either side on the garden table, and the ring box sat in the middle.

As she approached he started to talk. Watching her closely as she pulled up near and sat opposite him.

"I had a hundred and one ways in which to do this." He confessed. "They ranged from the grand to the embarrassing". He grinned at her through his last words.

She nodded her head and smiled encouragingly at him. Though she remained still. Afraid to say or add anything that might put it off again.

"In the end I guessed I just thought I'd ask you. Talk to you about it. See if it's still what you want? If I'm still what you want?" His voice broke on the last of his words, as he realised there might still be a chance she'd say no.

Her time for being silent was over. She had to speak.

"Always." She said and a teasing smile followed. "I'll always want you."

"Good." And he slowly pushed the ring box towards her. "So?" He raised his head to look at her.

She took the box and opened it. The ring, she hadn't seen for over three years, sitting there. Still as beautiful as she had imagined it. She picked it up and felt its weight. The weight of it actually, and the weight of it emotionally too.

"You don't have to. We don't have to. I mean if you'd rather wait. Until you're..."

"Think we've waited long enough! Don't you?" She spoke although she didn't know how as her mouth was dry and she felt nervous.

Her palm was flat in the table and the ring was nestled in between the soft flesh. Slowly he moved his hand over and picked up the ring in one hand and held her left hand in the other. Only once did he dip his head in a final silent request, and seeing her softly nod, he turned her hand over and slipped the beautiful ring onto her deserving finger.

Instantly she drew her hand away. She allowed it to flutter a few times in the sunshine and sparkle, and then moved towards him. Un-lady like plonking herself on his knee. He pulled her in for a kiss.

"That's a 'yes' by the way." She rested her head onto his forehead. "I still want you to be the last thing I see."

He sighed in remembrance of that phrase. "I love you Molly Dawes."

"I love you too." Were the words she was just able to say before his lips crashed onto hers. His kiss was definite, and releasing all the loves, fears, anxieties and hopes he'd carried around with him for years.

So today was the day. The day they would set off on a journey to become Mr

and Mrs James again. A special day, nothing like before.

This time there was going to be no sharing of the day, no grand declarations, no family gathering. Just them, a hot country, and an anonymous celebrant making them man and wife once again; a thousand miles or more away from where they did it last time.

It was fitting, they both felt, in doing it this way. This was about them, only them and no matter how much help and love their families had given them over the years, it was Molly and Charles who had made it work.

They'd both been on the journey. They had both gone their own way for a while. Yet they had both come back to each other as they had once promised to long ago.

They were in all sense of the words a thousand miles away from where they had started all those years ago. But right back where they belonged.

As he closed the door behind him. Reassuring her for the third time he'd turned the heating off, and the back door was locked. He walked towards her waiting by the car that was to take them off to the airport.

Both dressed casually for the long journey they had ahead, both with last minute ideas in their head, both so excited for their next chapter.

"You ready for this?" He asked as they slipped into the back seat of the cab.

"Yep, can't wait." Truthfully she replied. Leaning over and kissing him. He immediately settled her hand in his as the driver pulled away. "Can't bleeding wait." She smiled again as she placed her head on his shoulder.

Who knew what their future now held, but whatever it held, they were once again going to face it as man and wife.


End file.
